


Fighting Blind

by yespolkadot_kitty



Category: The Great Wall (2017)
Genre: Ballard is a weasely bastard, F/M, I told you it was nonsense, Lin Mae is a badass, Time Travel, Tovar is so grumpy, William is quite annoying but I do like him, a lot of nonsense really, handjobs, love beyond the boundaries of time or similar nonsense, the monsters are cool in this film though, time switches - between past and present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25379473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: Chinese-British curator Jade is swept back centuries in time by a mysterious axe and finds herself on a journey with two mercenaries bound for the Great Wall of China.
Relationships: Pero Tovar/Reader, Pero Tovar/You, William Garin/Lin Mae
Comments: 49
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NONSENSE. Truly. And a grumpy soft boy.

“The dream again?” Emma asked me as I shoved through the door to the tiny curator’s office we shared. I always thought being a curator involved  _ nice _ things - you know, free lunches, a cushy workspace, benefit galas. There were occasionally free lunches, but the rest of the time I didn’t even score an office with a window.

“What gave it away?” I asked grumpily. 

Emma - the friend I did not deserve - pressed a cinnamon frappuccino, extra cream just how I like it, into my hand. “Your face looks like a smacked arse.”

I grumpily drank the frappuccino. My sour mood brightened at the sudden influx of sugar and dairy. “Thanks. You always know what I need.”

“What are best friends for?” she asked chirpily, turning back to her computer. It whirred obnoxiously as she worked. I meant it when I said we didn’t get nice things. Our PCs went out of date at least half a decade ago, but the museum always wanted to use donations for new exhibits, not to make our lives easier. I understood, but I didn’t always like it, especially when I had to use my piece-of-crap computer to prepare an all-singing, all-dancing report to the board of Trustees.

My gaze drifted over to the artefact print outs on my desk. I’d asked one of our interns to leave them there yesterday, and they had arrived just before I’d left for the day. Hunched over, staring at them obsessively until well after Emma had left, I knew it was my own fault I’d had the dream again. 

This was the fourth time.

The axe spanned about the length of a man’s torso, the blade still wickedly sharp although it had been carbon-dated back to the mid 14th century. Exquisite detailing wrapped around the far ends of the handle, the art potentially Spanish in origin, but the experts I’d sent scans to hadn’t yet confirmed that. The protective leather around the handle’s middle had long since degraded into the Earth, but I could well imagine the heft of the weapon, a man’s scarred hand around it.

I’d been having the dream for a full four nights now, since the axe had arrived in a sealed box for the attention of our department - Emma and I curated the Early & Late Middle Ages weapons rooms here at the London Royal Armouries. The curve of the blade had immediately fascinated me; along with the little teeth on the back edge. 

A masterpiece for sure, with no sender information. It was awaiting specialist cleaning in our storeroom before being put on display - pride of place if I had my way.

It wasn’t that unusual to receive something precious with no information. The black market still existed despite the government’s best efforts, and people occasionally inherited objects that made them uncomfortable. Donating to a museum would assuage any guilt someone might feel at such a purchase or at having an item from history lumped on them in a great aunt’s will. 

And donating it anonymously would save any black market patrons from revealing their identity.

“Stop looking at it,” Emma chastised, sipping her tea. Judging by the time it was likely her sixth cup; the woman’s blood was fifty percent tannin by this point. “You’ll have the dream again.”

“But why?” I took another long drink of the cinnamon-y delight and studied the photos. There was one here I hadn’t noticed yesterday, of the butt of the axe. Something appeared to have been crudely carved into it, an oval with some sort of slice diagonally across it. A symbol, but what did it mean? A maker’s mark? A crude mark of ownership made by the man who wielded such a weapon?

The phone rang loudly and I dropped the paper, answering a call from my line manager. It was time for the day’s work to begin. I’d have to fantasize about the mystery axe on my own time.

*******

Four hours later, I’d successfully booked a living history group for a school’s day - these people were  _ really  _ good, they had all the armour, the cooking utensils, handmade props - and as a point of pride, they never ever showed poppers or zips in their middle-ages costumes - appeased the board of Trustees by showing them the donation figures for the last two weekends, and had snuck out to treat Emma to a bento box for lunch from our favourite sushi place two streets over. 

“Hey, boss.” My assistant, Marco, poked his head into my office. “That axe is going off for cleaning later. If you wanted to take any more pictures or document it further, first.”

“Thanks, Marco.” I held up the extra box of gyoza the bento place had given me as I went so regularly. “You want? They’re duck.”

“Oh man.” He nipped in and took it. “Thanks. You sure?”

“I’m sure. I can make them anytime, I’m just lazy.” My British-born Chinese parents had taught me well in the arts of Asian cooking; too bad I was obsessed with history rather than food and worked hours more suited to take out than serving my non-existent husband gorgeous oriental meals.

My mother constantly oscillated between disappointment (no grandchildren) and pride (she got to brag about her curator daughter to people in her book club).

“Did they give you a pick-up time?”

Marco slipped his iPad mini from his pocket, scrolled. “Uh...courier is booked for six p.m. So you have a couple hours, and no meetings until then.”

I grinned at him. “No meetings” is my favourite phrase ever.”

I left a spare pot of wasabi sauce on Emma’s desk - she practically drank the stuff; once she had spilled a pot on to her keyboard and our office had  _ stank _ for a full week - and saved my current report before barrelling out of my chair. I made sure to pace myself as I walked through our exhibit, enjoying the enchanted kids with their little noses pressed to the glass of the decorative Chinese armour, the fabric plates woven with tiny, intricate murals of “Tao Tei,” a mythical, green scaled wyvern-like beast that legend said had plagued the Great Wall in the 14th century. 

I’d done plenty of research on the creatures; as a dinosaur-obsessed child, finding out about them in ancient texts had been like crack for me, but I had very little to show for my efforts.

I’d eventually just lumped them in with the other unsolved ehigmas of history. Jack the Ripper, Cleopatra’s Tomb, and the San Bernado Mummies were among my most thought about, so the Tao Tei would be in good company.

I swiped my pass on the pad next to the big display of 15th century swords and armoured accoutrements, and pushed the door in when the light blinked green, catching the gaze of a small boy and winking at him as I disappeared. 

Always made me feel like James Bond, having secret access to the intestine-like interior of the museum.

The store room where new artefacts were stored before being cleaned or displayed sat behind two pass-coded doors. 

Possibly overkill, but many years ago before I joined the staff, the museum had been quite badly burgled. The police had eventually recovered ninety percent of the valuables, but since then the Director had been unwilling to take even the smallest chance. I respected that.

I paused before swiping my card over the second door. Did I  _ really  _ want to see this thing again?

Closing my eyes, I let the dream come back to me. In it, I felt the weight of the axe in my hands, the leather under my palms, worn smooth from years of being expertly wielded.

I swung it at an invisible foe in the heavy mist, while someone fought at my back. Terrible screeches wrought the air in half. 

When I turned to try and see my companion, I caught only a glimpse of thick, shaggy hair and bottomless dark eyes; the hint of tanned skin, broad shoulders. The dream skipped ahead at this point to a cool cloth on my brow and sword-calloused hands on my skin; the whisper of a deep voice, the twinned scents of gunpowder and lemon oil. And I always awoke to a desperate ache in my bones for a man whose face I’d never seen.

“To hell with it,” I muttered. I’d come this far. I swiped my card again and the door beeped.

The air was cool and still in this storeroom. The axe lay, carefully packed, on one of the central tables and I moved towards it almost helplessly, the blood rushing in my ears.

I looked down at it, my fingers itching to touch. The pack of white cotton gloves we wore to handle all artefacts sat just a few feet away, but-

Something pulsed in the air, and again I smelled the sweet acidic kiss of lemon oil, the heavy tang of gunpowder.

I reached out, my hand moving almost beyond my control, fingers hovering over where the leather handle would have been. My heart pounded; my throat burned.

The pads of my fingers touched the handle of the huge axe.

********

“A  _ woman _ alone out here has surely been left for dead. She will be a meal for the wolves.”

“Ah c’mon, let’s not be too hasty. See if she’s alive.”

“ _ You _ see if she is alive.”

I tried to force my eyes open, but they wouldn’t co-operate. One of the two men’s voices spoke again, the European one this time. Irish, maybe. 

“Never thought I’d see the day Tovar feared a woman.”

The other voice, deeper, Spanish perhaps, replied, scoffing. “Only a foolish man believes a woman helpless,  _ cabrón _ , no matter how small she seems.”

A thud as someone leapt to the ground - from where? The footsteps came closer, and I managed to pry my eyes open a little, to find myself on dusty ground. The slit of my vision afforded me a glimpse of scrubby surroundings. I sucked in humid air as a tall, bearded man with knotted brown hair approached and crouched before me.

He stank.

“Well well, good morning,” he chirped in that lilting accent, reminding me of Emma. She was a morning person too - morning people were a breed I had never understood. “What are you doing out here alone?”

He leaned in as if to touch me.

I had no idea what the hell kind of dream this was, but even though his blue eyes were kind, I wasn’t about to let him anywhere  _ near _ my person. He looked like he had  _ fleas _ . No. Like his  _ fleas  _ had fleas.

I kicked him in the face (thanks Mum for those self defence classes). 

He toppled like a tree.

“You never listen,  _ amigo, _ ” the second voice, deep with the allure of Spain, drawled from above. I tilted my head to try and see, but moving my neck made me see stars. How hard had I fallen? Was it  _ meant _ to hurt in dreams?

More footsteps. This man smelled too. How long since these losers had seen a bar of soap? I never usually dreamt of dirty guys. Well. Not  _ this _ literal sort of dirty.

The second man crouched. Like his unconscious friend, he sported plenty of hair and a full beard. But when he peered into my face, I saw the bottomless, chocolate brown eyes from my dream, one adorned with a wicked, faded scar.

How-

I passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bickering during a life or death fight.

When I came around, I vaguely registered being upright; a dry taste in my mouth, and my legs moving. Sort of….swaying?

I jolted awake. I was on horseback. What the  _ fuck _ was that smell?

“Sweet dreams,  _ princesa?” _ drawled an accented voice above my head.

Ah yes.  _ He _ was the smell.

I made to move my hands - and found them tied in front of me with rough, dirty rope.

“You gave me quite the kick, there,” the Irishman called over from his own mount. “Where’d you learn such skills?”

People were never usually this chatty in my dreams. “Self defence. What they teach women so we don’t get trapped with guys like you.”

The Spaniard snorted. “Clearly it has been  _ most _ effective.”

I elbowed him and my arm hit a solid wall of armour. I winced, trying not to let on how much it hurt.

“For a pretty kitten, you have such sharp claws,” my captor murmured. His voice had an alluring huskiness. Shame about the greasy tangle of hair. And the smell.

“You’ll find out how sharp if you don’t-”

“Halt,” the Irish one called out. “Someone’s been here.”

The Spaniard eased the horse to a stop as the Irishman slid out of the saddle, drawing a bow. We had come to a crude looking camp with the remains of a fire and a lean-to created from painstakingly cut branches and other vegetation.

“Stay,” the Spaniard bit off against my head as he dismounted. I tugged on my hands and found the rope bound to the horse’s saddle. Well, what choice did I really have? God, I could have used some water, though.

I watched as the two strangers circled the camp, touching spots on the ground as if checking where others had stood. Birds cried in the distance, the landscape otherwise almost eerily silent. 

A twig cracked somewhere behind me.

The Spaniard turned and reached to his back, roaring “ _ down!” _

I took the hint just in time as his sword whistled through the air, and, with a fleshy  _ thunk, _ slid into whoever had crept up behind the horse.

With a heavy thud my would-be attacker crumpled to the ground and I whipped around to look, seeing more men on horseback headed our way.

I lifted my head to thank the Spaniard for saving my life, but before I could speak, the Irishman was at my side, sawing at the ropes that bound my hands. “Can you fight?”

I gaped at him. “What?”

He inclined his head at my feet. “I underestimated you before. I’d be a fool to do it again. I’m William. That-” he nodded at the Spaniard, who now had two swords drawn, his dirty face framed in a scowl - “Is Tovar.”

“I’m Jade.” I held my hands out further. 

He continued sawing. “I won’t judge you for running.”

“Run where?” I glanced around. This was  _ very _ realistic dream scenery. Who knew, I might slide off this horse and turn out to be my dream’s answer to Cheng Pei-Pei. Only one way to find out.

“What are you doing?” Tovar hissed over as the final thread of rope snapped.

“Another sword never hurts,” William called back. I saw Tovar roll his eyes in response. Seriously. Who had pissed in this guy’s cornflakes?

“Axe, Tovar,” William yelled out. 

The Spaniard hurried over to the other side of his horse and dug in the saddlebag, offering me an axe.

No, not  _ an _ axe. 

The axe.

Butter-soft leather, dark red with the blood of past victims, hugged the handle. The wicked sharp curve of the blade shone in the sun that beat down on our heads.

A wave of dizziness swept over me, and I leaned against the horse’s huge flank.

William reached out to steady me, but out of the corner of my eye I saw the small group of bandits approaching. 

“Die well, brother,” Tovar muttered to William. He didn’t say anything to me. I guess we had only just met.

I had to hope dream-me could kick some serious ass. Right now just holding up the axe felt like a fool’s errand. Were things  _ meant _ to be this heavy in dreams? Maybe I needed therapy. Emma had always said I was her “most likely to be sectioned” friend.

William raised his bow and I  _ really _ wanted to wake up soon. Maybe I had to die to leave the dream? Waking up in my little London apartment with the annoying sound of the nearby railway line sounded really good right now.

“Move, girl!” Tovar yelled as the enemy horses loomed closer, kicking up clouds of dust. I stared at them and did some quick calculations based on what I knew of the weapons they held. All I had to do was unbalance them with the axe. I didn’t actually have to kill them, I could leave that to William and Tovar.

One of William’s arrows screamed through the air and impaled itself in the eye of a bandit on the left. He fell off his horse, shrieking. On the other side of me, Tovar barrelled into a couple of the guys on foot, swords whipping around him as if they were made of snakes, not metal. An arm - not Tovar’s - flew off and smacked on the ground, followed by a snarl from the Spaniard. I tensed as a bandit on horseback sped towards me, and I held the huge axe in both hands, and ducked as he came closer. He lent down, and I swung at his sword, the axe so heavy it did most of the work for me. The sword whirled out of his hand and he overbalanced, thumping on to the ground next to me, where the bandit and I gaped at each other for a long moment, before I panicked and kicked him in the balls. While he doubled over in pain, Tovar stalked over and cut his throat in one smooth, deadly stroke.

Blood gushed, saturating the sand and scrub around us.

“What the  _ fuck?” _ I demanded.

Tovar glared at me, rage burning in his chocolate eyes, his pale scar in sharp relief against his olive skin. “You would prefer I wait for him to do the same to you,  _ princesa? _ ”

“I would prefer you-”

“ _ If _ we could turn our attention to the situation at hand,” William ground out patiently, and I turned to see him drawing two more arrows from his quill and shooting, expertly catching another bandit in both eyes.  _ Ouch. _

I retrieved the axe and kicked aside the sword I’d spun from the hand of the dead bandit, positioning myself between William and Tovar. I held the axe in both hands this time, the weight evenly distributed. Time to use what I’d spend all these years learning about - weapons.

“You are like no woman I have ever met,” Tovar murmured, and I felt his gaze on me. Against my will, awareness prickled.

“I’m surprised you’ve gotten near any, smelling like that,” I bit back.

To my surprise, Tovar chuckled.

And then something enormous and green and  _ dragon-like  _ appeared over the ridge behind the remaining bandits, and all hell broke loose.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tovar and William suspect that Jade may be a few sandwiches short of whatever they called a picnic back then.

In the bloody aftermath, the three of us stared down at the huge, inhuman hand that William had severed from the beast with a single clean strike.

“Tao Tei,” I murmured, recognising them from the intricately woven murals on the armour in my exhibits.

“You know what this is?” William demanded. “How?”

“Where I work, I’ve seen them. Woven into art.”

Both men stared at me as if I’d grown an extra head on my shoulders. When neither of them spoke, I stomped moodily over to the horse I had unwillingly shared with Tovar and snatched the water canteen off it, drinking deeply. Drops of water ran down my throat and I savoured the brief coolness.

I surveyed the carnage. The Tao Tei had come over the ridge like a battleship on legs, decimating the bandits, tearing them limb from limb, its reptilian eyes somehow seeing everywhere at once. Its huge jaws rent flesh from bone in scant seconds, and the stench of death, emptied bowels and blood hung in the misty air. I had never longed for a dream to end more in my entire life.

Tovar moved towards the ridge and without thinking I grabbed his arm.

He snarled at me. “What?”

“What are you doing? There could be more.”

He looked me up and down, his face black with a scowl. “I think you know more than you are letting on,  _ princesa.” _ The word was absolutely not a compliment.

“Fine,” I yelled into his face. “Die, then. It’s only a dream anyway! You aren’t even real.”

Tovar froze, and six feet away, so did William.

They shared a look I couldn’t read. I shoved the crude lid back into the water canteen and tried to scan William’s face.

“What?” I demanded, finally snapping. “Look at me! I’m killing monsters and bandits wearing jeans and a summer t-shirt! In the middle of a desert! With two, what, I don’t know,  _ mercenaries _ straight out of an action film! What else  _ could _ this be but a dream?”

I was full on yelling by the time I’d finished, the ends of the words petering out as I screamed myself hoarse.

William held his hands up, palm out, walking toward me slowly like you would with someone who is very likely to brutally stab you in the face with a butter knife. “Your first time in battle? It can muddy things. It happened to boys training in the mercenary guild with me. Taking a life can weigh heavy on your mind.”

Tovar watched us avidly with his big, dark eyes, saying nothing.

“And please, stop yelling. It might attract more of those…. Creatures.”

“Well it doesn’t matter!” I yelled, one hundred and fifty percent done with all this nonsense. I wanted to wake up, watch crappy breakfast television and go to work, hang out with Emma, write applications for funding, maybe do an interview on the radio, catch the tube home, think about updating my profile on OK!Cupid. “It doesn’t matter because-hmmmpf!”

Somehow, Tovar had crept up behind me and shoved a hand over my mouth. I thought about biting him but I didn’t dare. Who knew where those hands had been.

“If you don’t shut your mouth, so help me God, I will shut it for you,” he hissed into my ear. 

The half-octave drop of his voice and the hard press of his armoured body against my back made me feel things I should absolutely not have been feeling. But hey. Dream-me isn’t always in charge of all her facilities.

“Am I making myself clear?” Tovar ground out, his beard tickling my ear.

I nodded. It seemed the sensible thing to do.

He dragged me closer to his armoured body and I shivered, half in fear, half in… something else. “Listen carefully. We are going to leave this razed camp and find another. By that time it will likely be nightfall. You can come with us now and we will do our best to keep one another safe, or I will turn you loose and leave you to whatever beasts - four and two-legged roam these desert lands.”

I looked over at William. He made the universal palms-up  _ I don’t know _ gesture. “We’ve no quarrel with you, miss. If you wish to strike out alone….”

For the first time since I’d woken up in this world of blood and guts and desert scrubland, I entertained the fear that  _ maybe this wasn’t a dream. _

My knees started to tremble, the little rabbit of terror scrambling up and down my spine relentlessly. Heat swept up through my body, and I recognised it as a precursor to fainting. Again? I was never usually given to cases of the vapours, but I suppose finding that you’ve somehow ended up very very far from home can do that to a normally level-headed person.

“I’m-” I started to say against Tovar’s hand, and then I knew nothing else.

  
  


**********

"Do you believe she knows something about this creature we killed?"

"Hard to say. Perhaps dehydration has addled her mind."

I opened one eye and listened as Tovar pontificated about how I might be insane.

It was late, the sun, blisteringly red, setting on the horizon in a blur of crimson, orange and gold. 

A fire crackled in the centre of our little camp, and the sound of rushing water made me sit up, rubbing my sore head.

"Ah, you're awake. Are you feeling better?"

I glanced over at William where he sat idly turning a spit over the fire. Something that had once had fur rotated at the whim of his hand. He looked… clean. The scent of rosemary soap hung in the air. His hair curled, damp.

"A bit. I think. Where are we?"

"You slept most of the day as we rode. We're travelling north."

I blinked away sleep, the scent of roasting meat making my stomach growl greedily. "Where…. Where's Tovar?"

William inclined his head to the left. "Washing in the stream."

At his words I noticed the surprisingly neat pile of armour, furs, fabric and weapons in front of the wall of scrub. I felt a furious blush creep up my neck, and glanced at William to see if he had noticed, but he was occupied with carving a sliver of meat and checking it for readiness.

At the very edge of my hearing there was a soft melody in Spanish. Soulful, barely there, and the possibility that it could be Tovar making the sounds that pulled on my heartstrings gave me pause.

"Tovar!" William called out. "Time to eat."

"Is she awake?" he demanded, grumpy as ever, husky-edge voice carrying over the scrub.

"Yes,  _ she  _ is," I called back.

"Forgive my companion, miss," William muttered. "He only thought to check if he should dress before joining us for our meal. We’re not used to accommodating a lady."

Heat at the instant image of Tovar unclothed flared low in my belly, but before I could quell it, the irritable Spaniard rounded the scrub, dressed in breeches and an untucked black shirt. He had scooped his hair back in a que, and washed his beard. It hung damply, curling around his jaw. The scent of lemon oil unfurled towards me on the evening air, jolting me from gazing at him.  _ Lemon oil _ , like in my dreams.

This was not a dream. 

And I was suddenly overcome by the intense urge to scream until I vomited, and then curl up into a ball and cry myself dry and hollow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TOVAR MAKEOVER MONTAGE! And some bickering.

The meat William had roasted tasted surprisingly good. Perhaps it was just that I hadn't eaten for some hours, but the savoury flavour reminded me of chargrilled chicken and I ate at a pace. William eyed me with some concern as we feasted. Tovar seemed occupied with his meal and didn't speak.

"Where did you say you were from?" The Irishman asked after picking the leg bone clean.

"I didn't. I'm….not from here."

His blue eyes danced with amusement. "That's becoming clear."

Tovar glanced over at us. The flickering flames from the campfire in the centre of the camp kissed the planes of his face. How would he look without that heavy beard? The firelight bathed the left side of his face, illuminating the scar across his eye. I expected most found it fearsome, but to me it gave his face interesting topography.

“And do you plan on finding your way home,  _ princesa? _ ” Tovar drawled.

His mood was really started to irk me. “Why do you call me that?”

He shrugged. “You have soft hands, soft skin. Fine clothes. What are you other than a princess, hmmm?”

“Tovar,” William muttered in warning.

“No, it’s fine,” I snapped. “By all means, don’t hold back,  _ Tovar, _ if that is your real name. Tell me what you really think.”

Tovar tossed his picked-clean bone into the fire. The flames sizzled a little. “I think perhaps you are a spy, no? Sent by the Chinese to see if we really are on a mission to find the black powder.”

“Black powder?” I echoed, stupidly. Then I thought back to the axe.  _ Gunpowder. _ Europe wouldn’t have it yet. “If I was a spy, would I really need your help?”

Tovar drank deeply from the water canteen. “Exactly what a spy  _ would _ say.”

William threw up his hands. “Enough. I’m turning in. Jade, perhaps you’ll keep first watch?”

Ignoring the sneer from our Spanish friend, I nodded. “I’ve been asleep half the day, it’s only fair.”

William took a small pouch from his pocket and headed for the stream, after tossing an identical pouch to Tovar.

I watched with interest as Tovar took out a little linen cloth and a tiny wineskin and followed William. They were cleaning their teeth, I realised. I’d never seen it done before.  _ Of course I hadn’t. _ Opportunities to see historical figures cleaning their teeth were very few in 2019.

William came back first, drying his face on his sleeve, and offered me the pouch. “I have a clean cloth.”

“Thanks.” I took the dry square of linen - must have been expensive for them - gratefully, crossing his path to tuck behind the scrub.

Tovar knelt by the stream, a little cake of soap in a bone dish by the rushing water. He held a cut-throat razor and studied his reflection in the slow-running, pooling water in this slower part of the stream.

He looked up when I knelt, said nothing, but started to spread a mixture of soap and water over his beard.

I hesitated with the cloth. Should I offer to help? He’d likely bite my head off.

“You don’t have a mirror?” I asked.

He scoffed; shook his head. “I rarely need one, unlike you,  _ princesa. _ ”

“That’s hardly fair. You know nothing about me,” I snapped, staring at the little cloth in my hand and wondering how the hell to use it. I hadn’t read about middle-ages hygiene since I was an undergrad.

“And you know nothing about us,” Tovar replied, his voice low, somehow intimate. He lifted the razor and his eyes went thoughtful.

“Why are you shaving?”

He spared me a glance from those honeyed bourbon eyes. “It’s hot and itchy here.”

I eyed the deadly edge of the razor. If he’d wanted to, he could have slit my throat by now. I’d seen him do it, quick and deadly. “Do you… can I help you?”

I saw him start to recoil. Big bad mercenary accepting help? No way. But there were only the three of us here.

I stood and peeked over the scrub. “William’s already snoring.”

Tovar glared at me and the suspicion in his eyes was almost tangible. “Why would you help me?”

I held out my hand for the razor. “If you slit your stupid throat shaving, I’ll only have William to protect me.”

He hesitated, his scarred hand still gripping the blade tightly. I’d seen his hands before, I realised. In my dreams. I’d felt them on my skin, felt his sword calluses on my most private places. I’d  _ wanted _ his touch.

“Some might say he is enough,” he muttered, but I could feel his resolve weakening. The smell from his rosemary soap drifted on the air between us.

“Why, are you jealous?” I asked sweetly.

As expected, Tovar slapped the razor into my hand. “At least if you kill me, I will be spared your insanity,” he bit out.

I hadn’t shaved a man before. How hard could it be? “You want to keep any of it?” I asked.

Tovar slid a finger over his top lip.

“Mustache, huh. Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was curious about the shape of his face under the enormous (and probably filthy) beard).

He moved into a sitting position, cross legged, and I turned his face toward the setting sun, to make the most of the waning light. His beard was very soapy and I dipped the razor into the water, shaking droplets loose before I started to gently scrape the metal across his skin.

Tovar watched me intently as I worked, and I had the feeling I was being weighed and measured. His beard started to fall away piece by piece, and I scraped until only dark heavy stubble remained. His adam’s apple was tricky. I held my breath as I worked, one hand braced on his throat. Touching his skin, feeling his pulse beat, was making me wet. I pushed the feelings away, hoping he didn’t notice.

Finally, I scraped away the first few layers of hair on his top lip, leaving him with a full but not bushy mustache. It suited him, made him look darkly sexy, roguish, especially with the thicker stubble around his jawline.  _ Fuck, _ he was hot. Just my luck.

Tovar looked at the huge pile of matted beard on the ground. “I suppose I needed that.”

I grinned and lifted the razor. “Let me do your hair, too? I promise not to kill you, unless you annoy me.”

He winged up a brow. How had I not noticed how expressive his face was? My mind flashed to my dream; his hands skating up my naked ribs towards the prize of my breasts. A premonition or just a fevered wish?

“We’ve come this far,” he sighed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More bickering, and some unintentional softness.

Once I started, his hair fell away. What was left seemed darker, thicker; curling at the nape of his neck and slightly shaggy over his forehead. I sat back, admiring my handiwork. Well, I wouldn’t be winning any hairdressing awards in this century - look, I made a joke! - but if I had been trying to make him look hot, I’d succeeded.

The shorter hair seemed to draw attention to the crescent of his eye scar. I had to clench my hand to stop from reaching out to kiss it with my fingers.

“Finished, no?” Tovar asked softly, his tone low between us.

“Yes.” I gestured to the stream. It was nearly dark now, but the rising moon provided enough light.

Tovar bent over to study his reflection in the mirror. “A fine job,” he pronounced at length. “Thank you.”

It was perhaps the first nice thing he’d said to me.

“Now, we sleep.”

He headed off towards the camp and I cleaned my teeth as best I could, covering the cloth in the herb paste and then wiping it over each tooth, wringing out the cloth and rinsing with the liquid in the wineskin. My mouth felt… weird afterwards. I wrapped up the little bundle and set it by William’s pack.

Tovar had already curled up by the waning fire. I reached for the pile of wood one of them had stocked before I’d woken up and tossed a few pieces into the maw of the flames. The night chill was already making itself known to my blouse and jeans - it would get much colder.

Tovar looked smaller, softer somehow under the swathe of fabric and fur that covered his body. When I sat cross-legged between him and William’s sleeping form, he opened one eye.

“What?” I asked. He  _ definitely _ had a resting bitch face and it got under my skin. His mustache reminded me of a little permanent frown.

He huffed. “You look cold.”

I hunched my shoulders. “Oh, you care?”

Tovar sat up. “If you die of the cold, I will have to work hard to dig a hole deep enough for your corpse,  _ princesa. _ ”

Reluctant amusement bloomed in my chest. Hadn’t I sassed him with the same thing while he’d probably been terrified that I would slit his throat? “You’re all heart, Tovar.”

He grunted, then rolled to his feet. When he approached me, he held a poncho-style garment in his hands. The fabric looked thick and soft. “Take it.”

I hesitated. 

“Your choices are humility or death from cold,  _ princesa. _ ”

I took the garment from him, slipping it over my head and wrapping it around my torso. The scent of lemon oil drifted up to my face, and I had the sudden urge to press the worn fabric to my nose to inhale. However, I couldn’t give Tovar the satisfaction

He gazed down at me for a moment longer, then nodded stiffly and tromped back to his makeshift bed, burrowing under the remaining pile of furs and cloth.

As he’d turned away from me, I could indulge myself, and I brought the edge of Tovar’s blanket to my face. The lemon oil scent bathed my skin, along with the aroma of leather and something like thyme, or bergamot. Not the smells I’d expected of this time period. It was… comforting. I stared across the crackling fire and let my gaze trace over Tovar’s sleeping form, let myself fantasise, for a moment, about curling into the warmth of his body.

Time passed. I’d no idea how long. The sounds of the desert at night washed over me. I took a quick and uneasy break behind the scrub to relieve myself before resuming my watch. The men snored softly, and I had to wonder whether that was natural or if they had been conditioned not to make too much noise so as not to alert any enemies.

I had many hours to mull over my situation. I could have cried, I suppose, but I’m not really a crier. I’m a planner.

But how to make a plan when I felt like I was drowning in a sea of molasses, each step potentially pulling me further and further under?

When the moon started to descend, I figured it had been enough hours. My eyes were starting to droop, and the comforting weight and scent of Tovar’s blanket lulled me into a sort of waking-doze.

I poked William awake, crouching by his sleeping form.

He grunted, but within a few seconds had brought himself into full wakefulness, drinking deeply from his water canteen. He ducked behind the scrub for a few moments’ privacy, then gestured to his pile of blankets. “You’re welcome to use them.”

I nodded gratefully, still wearing Tovar’s woollen throw. If William noticed, he didn’t comment.

William’s belongings smelled different. Not bad; faintly of rosemary and something I couldn’t name, another herb perhaps.

I was asleep in moments.

********

Sunlight flickered over my closed eyelids and I groaned.  _ Five more minutes. _ Was there a limited number of times you could hit the snooze button before the alarm clock just gave up?

I stretched. The bed felt extra warm this morning and I let myself drift. What a great dream. I was snuggled into warmth, lemon scented. A broad chest rose and fell at my back, and if I wiggled my behind I could tell that the other person was - well, _very_ aroused. _Hmmmm._ I snuggled in and the arm around my waist tightened. Low murmurs of praise reached my ears in a husky-edged voice. _Hermosa. Querida._ _Mi amor._ The words flowed over me like honey and I turned my head, the scrape of heavy stubble against my skin inflaming my senses. Soft kisses pressed to my forehead made warmth flow through me languidly, pooling at the apex of my thighs. I rolled over, pressing myself to the firm body beside me, hooking a leg over his hips, rubbing my lower body against his. The scent of lemon and thyme and warm, sleepy man engulfed me, and I lifted my face to burrow it in his neck. A calloused hand brushed over my breast and I leaned in as a warm thumb caressed my nipple.

In response, I slid my hand down his body to cup his hard cock, drinking in the sound of his broken growl as he started to lazily thrust into my fingers.  _ Yes. _

Abruptly, the splash of water on my face made my eyes pop open.

“What the  _ fuck, _ Tovar?” I demanded, scrambling away.

The Spaniard looked equally horrified.

Above us, William stood with an up-ended wooden cup, his brows raised. 

“You poured water on us?” I shouted.

He shrugged. “You seemed… deeply asleep.”

Tovar shoved wet hair out of his eyes. “ _ Cabrón!” _

I gathered as much dignity as possible while I fought my way out of the pile of furs and blankets. “What the  _ hell _ were you doing?” I hissed at Tovar, who was staring at the ground he sat on, probably willing his erection to go down. The erection I’d felt in my hand.  _ I’d wanted more. _

He scowled. “When I took over from William, you were  _ shaking. _ From cold.”

“Right. And you couldn’t inconvenience yourself by having to dig a hole big enough for my corpse, right?” I snapped.

William threw his hands up in the air. “I’m saddling up. You two can kill one another for all I care.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More bickering, and our motley crew reach the wall.

Tovar rode ahead, the by now rather fetid, Tao Tei arm hanging off one side of his saddle. I could see from the set of his shoulders that he was in a  _ mood. _ What else was new?

“Must you bait each other?” William sighed. 

I rode on his horse today, sitting in front of him. His body was just as hard from years of battle and training, but it had not escaped my notice that his pleasant Irish lilt combined with his physique did  _ absolutely nothing _ for my hormones. He was nice. That was it.

“He always starts it,” I grumbled, playing with the saddle pommel and realising that I sounded about six years old with my whining. “But, you’re right.”

William huffed out a laugh. “Ah, but that never gets old, hearing a woman say I’ve the right of it.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He laughed again. “Are you going to tell us where you’re  _ really _ from, then?”

I stared straight ahead. In the distance, a huge stone wall loomed, flags flying. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“Try me,” he countered, but there was no judgement in his tone, just curiosity.

I eyed Tovar’s back; the unrelenting set of his shoulders under the cape of chain mail. I thought about the dream again; his scarred hands dark on my pale skin, the feel of his teeth on my pulse point, the press of his cock on my belly. 

Not that I had to imagine the feel of his cock. 

Not anymore.

“I’m from the future.”

The words weighed heavily on my tongue as I spoke them.

William said nothing for a long moment. “Right you are,” he replied eventually.

You scoffed. “You think I have gone quite mad.”

He shrugged; I heard the leather creak as he did so. “I’ve seen many things during my life. This beast I killed is just the latest of occurrences I can’t truly explain. Who am I to judge your tale, miss?”

I picked through his words for sarcasm, but found none.

"About Tovar," he began, as the rocking of the horse started to make me feel a little sleepy. "It's likely he saved your life by doing what he did. You might have perished from the cold."

I opened my mouth to reply with a sarcastic retort, but thought better of it. “He probably did,” I muttered, sour.

“And it’s only natural that you’d seek each other out…. In the way that you did.”

I glanced up at his face, amused. William was a skilled fighter and I had zero doubt that he could kill me with a flick of his wrist, should he want to. But in speaking about….  _ That, _ he was embarrassed?

William looked down at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “What? I’m not used to discussing such matters with a woman.”

Tovar chose that moment to turn back to look at us. I could only imagine what he saw. William and I only two breaths apart, smiling at each other. I met his brown gaze, watched the scowl twist his mouth, before he rode on ahead again, his back more ramrod straight than ever.

“Oh, sure and he likes you,” William muttered.

I scoffed. “And here I thought  _ you _ were the smart one.”

********

Two days after the axe arrived, our social media team decided to make up a post for our Facebook page. I was always amazed and grateful that in 2019, so many people still had a thirst for history, to find out about their ancestors and how people had lived before they themselves came into being.

Emma fluffed up my hair ( _ very _ difficult for Asian hair, I can tell you, it is almost always poker straight no matter what potions I use or blood sacrifices I make) and fixed my make-up as I prepared to record a little Facebook live video for the post.

When Mike, our tech intern, mouthed “go,” I spoke for three minutes about how excited we were to have received the axe. I didn’t mention that we had no idea who had sent it, of course - I didn’t want to discourage further anonymous artefact donations. When Mike clicked the camera off with a thumbs up, Emma, he and I all watched the cellphone me before he posted with a sketch of the axe and a bit of text. Within an hour, it had seventy likes and twice that many shares.

A few hours later, when I next sat down at my computer to troll through my e-mails, one about the Facebook post caught my eye.

_ From:  _ [ _ zw_1975@gmail.com _ ](mailto:zw_1975@gmail.com)

_ To:  _ [ _ j.yuan@londonarmouries.net _ ](mailto:j.yuan@londonarmouries.net)

_ Subject: spanish (?) axe _

_ Dear Ms Yuan _

_ I was wondering if you’re planning on releasing any more details about the axe on your Facebook page. I’m very interested in military history and something about it is really familiar to me. Do you have any more pictures? _

I scrolled down to read the next paragraph but before I could, Emma appeared at my desk. “Sorry. The school visit’s just arrived in the foyer. They’re a half hour early. Shall I tell them to wait?”

I closed the browser. “No, it’s fine, I’ll go down now.” 

I snagged my pass and keys and looped the lanyard over my neck, the e-mail forgotten.

*******

“We are heading for the wall, yes?” Tovar asked when we’d stopped under some patchy trees to rest the horses and to eat some very dry crackers that William shared out.

“Hard to avoid it,” William replied genially. His mood was usually good, and I wondered how he’d ended up with misery guts here. “Perhaps the black powder is behind it. Makes sense that they’d want to protect what’s theirs.”

Tovar ate the crackers in silence, sitting with his back to us on a large fallen log. The heat of the day made sweat trickle down my back. I must have made some noise of disquiet, because the grumpy Spaniard turned.

“What?”

My hackles immediately raised. “Oh, I’m sorry, must I be  _ totally  _ silent?”

“You know, it’s at times like these that I long for wine,” William muttered, leaning against a tree with a sigh, and munching on his snack.

“I was merely asking what you needed,” Tovar snapped back. “Perhaps my  _ amigo _ here can help you, as you’ve become so close, no?”

I stared at him.  _ He’s jealous. _ I could hardly believe it. “Don’t drag William into this.”

“First name terms,” he sneered.

_ Enough of this nonsense. _ I stomped over to him, looming over him as he sat on the log, legs spread for balance. I tried, and failed, not to notice the shape of his thighs under his tunic, the broadness of his chest, the way his hair licked up at the back. “If your first name isn’t Tovar, you should have enlightened me,” I snapped, five hundred percent done with this infuriating man, “I can’t read minds.”

“And thank God for that,” I thought I heard him mutter, but before I could replay his bitten-off words in my head, William put his fingers in his mouth and whistled, making Tovar and I turn around.

“Stop bickering. Looks like we’ve got company.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade, William and Tovar are taken inside the wall.

“I haven’t surrendered in a while,” Tovar chewed off, and a sudden image of him on his knees before me in supplication arrowed into my head. I shook it off. Now was no time for puerile fantasties.

“It’ll come back to you,” William deadpanned, as a band of heavily armoured Chinese warriors rode towards us on horseback. In the distance, it was clear that a huge drawbridge in the wall beyond had been lowered to let them out. I hadn’t realised that the portion of the huge defensive structure stood on the other side of a huge crevasse in the land. 

I held my hands up, very aware of my sweat-soaked blouse, as the horses’ hooves kicked up dust clouds. Tovar and Willam followed suit as the warrior leading the group stopped six feet from us and dismounted.

I saw Tovar’s hand twitch.

“No,” William hissed.

I noticed a muscle in Tovar’s freshly shaven jaw clench, but he left his hands in the air.

The lead warrior moved closer to us, graceful, armoured feet almost silent, and my stomach dropped as I realised that a) she was female and b) I could literally be staring one of my ancestors in the face. What if I messed something up that led to me no longer existing?

The warrior took in my clothes and then my companions, face passive, revealing nothing. A bead of sweat ticked down my back.

“Who are you?” she asked in Mandarin.

I almost sagged in relief - not a dialect I didn’t understand. “We’re travelling merchants,” I explained in the same language. “Just taking a rest.”

She narrowed her chocolate brown eyes at me, her disbelief palpable. “You are very close to the wall.” Her gaze darted to Tovar’s horse with the severed arm. She stalked over to it, examining it closely, seemingly unaffected by the smell of the fetid flesh. 

Tovar started to lower his hands, but a bright red arrow winged through the air, landing perfectly between his feet. He put his hands back up. When I glared at him, he shrugged silently. William tutted.

The warrior by Tovar’s horse looked at me as if to say: these guys? Really? I could sympathise with her thoughts; they were my own.

“Where did you get this?” She demanded of me, flicking the amputated arm with a dagger.

I gestured to William. “He severed it.” Then I gestured to Tovar, then me. “We slayed it together.”

“Tao Tei,” she muttered. I saw William and Tovar’s heads swivel; they had recognised the name from when I had spoken it earlier.

“What province are you from?” the warrior asked me, her interest in the arm waning.

I scrambled. “Hunan.” My grandparents had been from there. Had it existed in those times? My historical specialty was weapons, not geography. Shit.

Tovar was eyeing me critically, probably trying to work out what was being said. He looked moody - but then what else was new?

The woman looked me right in the eye, and then backed off, her face still a perfect mask, unreadable. “Commander Lin wants to see you,” she snapped off, raising a hand to the warriors on horseback - also all female, I noted, impressed.

Two further warriors dismounted, long pikes in hand, their stance aggressive.

“No need for that,” William began with a smile, moving forwards. “We’ll happily-”

An arrow landed a centimetre from his boot.

“Right o, message received,” he said a little too loudly.

I winced.

Tovar rolled his eyes.

“We will come, of course,” I told the warrior, smiling.

She didn’t smile back. She and Tovar would probably enjoy comparing notes.

*****

If you’d told me a few days ago that I’d be tied up with a Spaniard and an Irishman, I’d have asked you for the punchline for that dirty joke.

But the reality was quite different. The three of us struggled in our bonds, me sandwiched tightly between William and Tovar. Thank God they’d bathed prior to this, I thought, smiling at my own joke.

The severed hand lay on a long table in this huge throne-room-esque space. Two important looking armour-clad figures, one female, stood by the limb, speaking in hushed tones. Even though I understood Mandarin, I couldn’t make out more than the odd word.

“What are they saying?” Tovar hissed.

“Too far away to tell,” I mumbled back, trying to ignore the scent of him, leather and lemon oil and clean sweat. If we both turned our heads just a little, we’d be kissing. My fingers twitched, recalling the feel of him, hard and ready. “But if they wanted to kill us, I think they would have, already.”

“How comforting,” Tovar grunted.

“Would you just be happy we’re alive, for fu–”

“We could die at any moment and all you two can do is fuck or fight,” William gritted out, silencing us both.

“We were not-” I began, as Tovar heatedly hissed, “Even if she were the last-”

“That’s not what I saw this morning,” William half-sang, half whispered.

A blush crept up my neck and Tovar stiffened beside me.

“Now that I’ve shut you up,” William smiled, “The weapons are over there. If I can just get my bow-”

“Have you lost your mind?” Tovar snapped.

“He has a point, for once,” I muttered, hearing the surprise in my own voice. Tovar snorted.

“Holy Christ! All we had to do was get captured by the enemy and be in mortal danger for you two to agree on something!” William bit back. “Why didn’t I try that earlier?”

“You believe we are your enemy?” The woman by the severed hand asked, in English, her voice ringing out, firm, commanding. “Why? What have you come to take from us?” Her dark hair, pulled back in a high ponytail, shone in the shafts of light from the chamber’s windows, her gaze, when it landed on me, was quick and sharp. I got the feeling she missed nothing.

William and Tovar shifted guiltily, and I wondered if I should prepare myself for an ugly death.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tao Tei attack the wall.

Before William or Tovar could speak (and potentially get us into even hotter water), an enormous commotion interrupted our gathering, the chamber doors thrown open. An armoured man hurried down the steps, shiny, too-big breastplate banging on his sword. “Smoke signals from the lookout towers!” he cried in Mandarin.

The female commander questioning us looked up, her gaze direct and piercing. She was in charge - definitely. In this time period, a woman in charge was remarkably refreshing. She gestured to us. “Lock them up.”

In short order, a couple of heavily chain-mailed soldiers untied us and retied our hands with coarse, thick rope, before poking us none too gently with their spears until we stood and let ourselves be led down a long stone corridor.

The walls of the chambers resonated with whirring and stamping footsteps - clear preparations for a battle.

Tovar, William and I kept glancing at each other as we were hurried along the stone walkways. My heart had leapt into my mouth and I swallowed as if that would help.

We were paused at a huge, imposing oak door. Oh, my. I hated, hated dark spaces. I felt myself begin to tremble, nausea churning my stomach like a stormy sea.

Unexpectedly, Tovar’s tied hands brushed mine. His dark gaze searched my face, his brow furrowed. The comfort came from such an unexpected quarter that my stomach dropped in surprise, my heart skipping when he tangled his fingers with mine, and nodded once, as if to say: this is not insurmountable.

And I found that I could breathe again.

The soldier assigned to us fumbled; dropped his keys. The woman in charge with the shrewd eyes and high ponytail stalked over, demanding in Mandarin to know what was going on.

The soldier hesitated, his eyes huge in his pale face. “I can’t find the key, Commander Lin,” he murmured, clearly afraid.

Commander Lin sighed, and opened her mouth to speak, but a commotion outside, and a thump that almost shook the walls, interrupted her.

“Bring them to the wall,” she snapped, her tone assertive rather than scathing. I got the impression the army respected her. “We can guard them there.”

She power-walked away and I thought: they probably won’t guard us that hard, against the Tao Tei, anyway. I hoped today wasn’t the day we died. 

Against my will, I had become a little attached to these two men.

The soldier poked us forward with his spear. He looked young. I hesitated for a moment, wondering whether to try and talk to him, and he misjudged the angle of his spear and ripped a tear in the back of my blouse. I gasped in surprise rather than pain - he’d grazed me at most, but Tovar turned on him.

“Do not touch her again,” he growled, and I hadn’t seen such a feral look in his chocolate eyes since we’d killed the Tao Tei. His voice had dropped half an octave; he looked capable of killing with his bare hands.

The soldier staggered back with an apology. William grabbed at Tovar as best he could with his tied hands. “Enough. Let’s not create another battle when one rages above.”

Tovar took a deep breath. I reached up with my tied hands and brushed my fingers along his cheek. Less than a day ago I could never have imagined touching him like this - I could never have imagined wanting to. Did I imagine it or did he lean into my caress, ever so slightly?

Another crash sounded from above, and the soldier started to panic.

William turned, met the young man’s eyes. “Come on, boy. Take us up to the wall, do your duty, serve your country. Can you do that?”

I translated. The Irishman’s dulcet tones had their intended effect, and the soldier straightened, gesturing with his spear - thankfully avoiding my torn blouse - for us to go ahead. Without much choice, we did so.

Up on the wall, carnage reigned. The soldier bid us to sit by the far side, away from the edge of the wall, where I could see various green clawed arms scrabbling at stones, some gaining purchase, others being cut down. It was clear that these soldiers were a well oiled machine, but the creatures - Tao Tei - held their own. The size of a bull, their jaws gaped and snapped, dripping saliva and blood.

The three of us huddled where we were held at spear point.

“Aim for the eyes!” was yelled again and again. The crunch of massive machinery all but shook the ground we sat on and I gaped as giant fireballs flew into the air. 

“Mother of God,” Tovar whispered, and I looked at him, and saw, for the first time, that he was truly, bone-deep, afraid. It was difficult with my hands tied, but I moved my arms over and touched my hands to his.

“Jade,” he murmured, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. “If we die today-”

“Crane Corps attack!” a voice boomed from the left of us, as a huge claw swiped over the battlements and took out three soldiers in one fell swoop. Another huge Tao Tei clambered over the one with its claws in the walls. I spied a crossbow lying just a few feet from the soldier guarding us.

“Untie us, please!” I shouted in Mandarin. “We can fight!”

The young man - eighteen at most? - stared at me, eyes glassy. His first time in combat, maybe? His armour looked shiny, unused. 

“Please,” I implored. “I can use that crossbow. Give us an axe, and….. That broken crossbow there. Please.”

“They’ll have my head,” he murmured, but he dropped his spear and rushed out to us, using a short blade to cut the ropes on our wrists. I grabbed for the crossbow, shouting at William to use the identical, broken weapon just a few feet away, cracked so it resembled a bow he was used to. A quiver of arrows sat unused across from us and I grabbed it, throwing it through the air to William. He caught it deftly, and I kicked up an axe from the floor. Tovar grabbed it, and I watched him testing the weight of it in his hands, the gleam of bloodlust in his dark eyes.

William began firing off arrows faster than anyone I’d ever seen; his hands a blur. A few times we’d held archery contests at the London Armouries and William put award winning archers to shame with his deft skill and speed.

I slung a quiver on to my back and took aim with the crossbow. Tovar grabbed my arm, and I made to stop him, but before I could, he pressed his mouth to mine, a quick, ferocious kiss. His moustache and heavy stubble tickled my skin, but his lips were surprisingly soft. His free arm banded around me, holding me captive against his broad, armoured chest. He licked into my mouth, fervent and passionate, an edge of desperation to his actions, and when he broke the kiss we were breathing hard.

“I could _not_ die today without tasting you,” he breathed, and then ran off into the fray, his armoured form swallowed by the crowd.

I blinked. And now I was supposed to concentrate enough to stay alive?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fighting, and a tender moment of relief for Jade.

I balanced the crossbow awkwardly, the wheels turning in my head as I loaded an arrow. I didn’t have much time to contemplate whether I was correct; a Tao Tei barrelled into the crowd just six feet away.

“Look out!” William bellowed, and I fired off an arrow, striking the beast in its gaping maw. The sound it made split my head with pain, but it continued on its rabid path. I loaded another arrow, working only from memory and panic, aimed for the eye. I struck gold by pure luck, and the monster - because no other word would do this _abhorration_ justice - keened, and skidded to a dead halt not three feet from my foot.

Dizzy, I bit my lip hard to keep from passing out, from fear, from adrenaline, from lack of food - take your pick.

“Well fought,” William rasped, his chest heaving. Exhaustion lined his face, and I knew that he, Tovar and I were maybe minutes away from crashing hard if we didn’t get fed.

I met his gaze. “We need to find Tovar.”

His brow quirked.

“Shut up,” I snapped.

I caught his smile as he turned away. “Come on. This way.”

The fighting continued at pace as William and I carried our weapons through. A Tao Tei scrambled for purchase on the wall and I watched as a giant fireball slammed into it, the smell of burning flesh searing the inside of our lungs. 

“Christ,” I heard William breathe, and he leapt up on an upturned crate to shoot an arrow at a monster writhing, half on, half off the wall.

I did my part, seeking out creatures battling clusters of soldiers and firing off crossbow arrows until my hands were shaking from the effort.

Finally, the smoke from the fireballs cleared. I coughed, trying to breathe easier, staring through the crowd, looking for a familiar dark head among the soldiers.

I spied him a couple of metres away, together with the young, terrified soldier, hacking at a flailing Tao Tei with the massive axe in his tan, scarred hands. His face was set in hard, determined lines, his eyes black, the scar prominent against his smoke-darkened visage.

Despite the situation, despite our bickering, my knees almost gave out at seeing him in one piece. _Alive_.

I called his name, and his face jerked up briefly as he stood on the back of the beast. Our eyes met, and the relief I saw in his made my heart roar in my ears.

The young soldier hacked a slice into the Tao Tei’s neck as Tovar held it down, and the beast breathed its last, a toxic smell drifting from the blood pouring on to the stone at our feet.

Tovar made to start towards me, something almost predatory in his gaze, something that made my insides run hot, and my stomach flipped at the thought of another kiss, but Commander Lin stepped between us.

“You will explain everything,” she gritted out, clearly exhausted, “but first, we all eat.”

Her words made me almost delirious with joy.

************

Tovar, William and I were herded into a washroom with three huge tin baths of steaming water. The scent of ginger hung heavy in the air, and my gaze tracked to the cakes of soap, flecked with ginger root, on the lip of each bath.

A thin curtain had been hung and drawn over one bath, for me, I guessed - privacy was clearly not too much of a concern.

Tovar glanced at me and I saw heat snap in his dark eyes. The fire in my belly ignited again. I itched to stroke his face; feel the stubble rasp against my palms.

“Let’s get to it, then,” William announced, unflappable and cheerful as ever. “Commander Lin said as soon as we’re clean, we can eat. And right now, I could inhale my own leg.”

Tovar grunted in response, and both men started shedding their layers of armour and clothes with zero preamble. I ducked behind my curtain, and saw a little pile of fresh clothes by the bath designated to me. My eyes burned at the thoughtfulness. I could not wait to be rid of this torn, stinky blouse and my filthy jeans.

I sank into the bath. The curtain didn’t cover the entirety of it so I folded myself up a little - although what did it matter if William or Tovar saw a bit of knee? Either of them could have raped me in my sleep, but they hadn’t.

I could see their silhouettes through the fabric. William, taller and leaner, Tovar, darker, stockier.

I made myself turn away, scrubbing dirt and sweat from my skin with a palm-sized loofah, wetting it liberally with the fragrant soap. William and Tovar muttered to each other as they bathed.

“We should be honest about why we’re here,” William began.

Tovar scoffed. “Because we have been treated so cordially so far?”

“They could have killed us right off the bat,” I pointed out from behind my curtain.

“Jade’s right,” William agreed. I heard splashing as he moved around in his bath.

“You two are made for each other, no?” Tovar groused. I heard the scratch of him scrubbing his skin with the loofah, imagined his scarred hands moving over his golden skin. “Perhaps you can stay here, marry and have chubby little babies, and I will take the black powder and bring the outside world to its knees.”

“Don’t be absurd,” William chided. “We’re in this together.”

I privately wondered if any of us would be allowed to leave. You didn’t build a wall like this only to let people go when they found you.

“Of course, _amigo_ , where you go, I follow,” Tovar drawled, but the sarcasm dripped from every syllable. As he spoke, a bit of loofah caught the sensitive skin of my armpit and my temper boiled over.

“For fuck’s sake, William, how’d you get stuck with the Grinch here?”

Silence for a second. Then William replied: “He saved my life on a job we were hired for together. Then, I saved his life. His bark is worse than his bite.”

I heard the very real affection in William’s dulcet tones.

“Don’t let that get around,” Tovar muttered, but his words held no heat in them.

Suddenly I saw a whole new side to their partnership, and it made me feel a piercing loneliness and a longing for my friends.

Who knew when I would see them again? If I ever would. Emma’s big sunshine-smile bloomed in my mind and I felt like crying. The steam from the bath provided an extra modicum of privacy and I dropped the soap, resting my head on my knees, and suddenly _it was all fucking too much._

The sobs wrenched out of my chest. I was too far gone to care that William and Tovar could hear me having a complete breakdown just a fabric divider away. They’d completely stopped talking, and I imagined them eyeing each other, wondering if they could leave without me hearing them sneaking away.

And then as I sobbed my heart out into the murky, ginger scented water, Tovar muttered something, and then the two idiots a curtain away from me started to sing.

Some marching tune in what seemed like Latin. Neither of them could sing worth toffee; but I got it. They were making as much noise as they could so I could cry in semi-privacy, so I could maintain some shred of dignity.

And in that moment, a little piece of my heart broke off and fluttered away into their sword and bow calloused palms, and I gave it gladly.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade learns Tovar's first name. And everyone finally gets to eat!

Two soldiers opened the huge dining chamber doors to the three of us and we descended the stairs to thundering applause. It was nice but I only had eyes for the food being brought out on huge platters. The smell of freshly cooked rice, wheat noodles, meat and vegetables made my stomach contract in on itself.

Commander Lin said something about our fighting, and William made some stumbling reply, but thankfully it didn’t go on for too long, and without further ado I found myself between the two of them at a scarred bench, huge plates of rice, soft flatbreads and noodles before us.

The other warriors were digging in, so I did the same. Tovar ate like he’d never see food again.

William was more restrained, but Commander Lin sat opposite us, and I fancied his newfound manners had something to do with her presence. They spoke about how she’d learned English and, my mouth full of savoury rice, I glanced over when she pointed at the only other white man in the chamber - older than us, thin, wearing long asian robes.

Tovar scooped up rice with a torn off corner of flatbread. I nudged his leg with mine under the table. “Slow down. Don’t choke. If you do, I will have to work hard to bury your body.”

He grunted, but I saw a smile curve the corner of his mouth. “Why bother? Easier to toss me to one of the hellbeasts, no?”

My heart skipped for a second, an image of his broken body flashing through my mind, and I had to fight the urge to turn and press my face into his shoulder. 

“Thank you,” I said instead. “For before. Both times. When.. I was afraid of the dark, and… the singing. That was very thoughtful.”

Tovar said nothing for a long moment. Then, “It’s Pero.”

“What?”

“My first name. It’s Pero.”

I touched my leg to his under the table again, but left it there this time, just enjoying being close to him. Against all expectations, I found his presence…. Soothing.

We ate in companionable silence for a few moments, the warriors chattering around us, the atmosphere warm, familial. 

“Growing up, my family had little money,” Tovar began, a faraway look in his chocolate-brown eyes. “Sometimes, I stole from the markets. Not much; just enough to keep us from starvation. I never took more than we needed. Once, the local peacekeepers caught me, threw me into a dark, dirty cell for half a day to teach me a lesson. I could not have been more than ten, _si_? I was afraid. So, I know what it is to fear dark spaces.”

“Oh, Pero.” My heart ached for the boy he’d been. How could I have thought he was uncaring? “I’m sorry.”

He tore off more bread, waved a hand as if to clear the memory from his mind. “It was a long time ago.”

I watched his hands as he divided the bread. No rings. But were wedding rings common in this time period? Was he promised to anyone?

 _Why do I care?_ I wasn’t staying. As soon as I could get hold of that axe, I’d try and touch it again. Maybe reverse whatever had happened in the Armoury storeroom.

“You two seem to be getting along,” William observed, his tone carefully bland, fiddling with chopsticks as he ate his noodles. It took a long time, and he was bad at using the fiddly dining aids, but, like everything William did, he approached it with a good mood and plenty of patience.

He must have an ocean-worth of patience to have dealt with Tovar for so long. 

Tovar grunted. “The same could be said of you and Commander Lin, eh, _amigo_?”

William had the grace to blush. The woman in question stood perhaps ten feet away, talking animatedly with a tall, thin man wearing battle garb, his face drawn into a serious frown as he gestured to the three of us.

“You know you won’t be allowed to leave, don’t you?”

My head whipped around to see that the thin, older white man had come to sit at our table. He held a pile of books in front of him, and his face reminded me of someone weaselly. His narrow eyes gave away zero emotion. He clearly kept his own counsel, and looked like someone to be wary of.

“Ah, you must be Ballard,” William greeted the man. “How long have you been here, friend?”

Ballard tensed at the moniker, as if no one had been this nice to him for a very long time. “Twenty years,” he rasped eventually. My face must have dropped, because he sneered at me. “What, you thought they would just let you ride out of here with the key to every brothel and counting house in the land in your pockets? The only way out of here is a short walk off the cliff edge of this wall, or through the arse of one of the Tao Tei. That’s the fate you’re staring at now.”

 _“Si?_ Well, _amigo_ , I make my own fate,” Tovar scoffed, scooping up more rice and eating. He tore another flatbread in half, shoved one crescent at me. “Eat.”

His concern, however it was displayed, made me warm a little more inside. I took the bread. It was deeply savoury, littered with coriander and spicy and fragrant. I chewed slowly, marvelling at how it compared well with the most gourmet food I’d had in London - or was that just the hunger talking?

As my stomach got fuller, my eyelids got heavier.

I vaguely registered William calling over to Commander Lin as I swayed a little in my seat. 

“ _Mierda_ ,” Tovar muttered. I felt strong arms around me. The scent of rosemary soap and warm leather was the last thing I consciously registered.

*******

_Present Day_

He shouldered the big duffle bag, paid the cab driver, got out, stood in the bustling airport drop off area. Dug the ticket out of his pocket, stared at it. Was he really going to London - five thousand miles - on a week of insane dreams and a burning sensation on his skin?

Guess he was.

The Los Angeles sun shone down on the tarmac. People moved around, greeting others or saying goodbye, as he followed the signs to the check in and departures area, his heart pounding.

*******

I woke up alone, in darkness. At first I flailed about, scared, but a voice cut through the darkness.

“ _Buena Noches_ ,” Tovar said into the gloom. I couldn’t see him, but my heartbeat slowed just at hearing his husky-edge baritone.

“Pero.”

The bed moved, and I pictured him sitting on the edge, long legs folded. 

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Some time.” His voice washed over me like a caress. “The evening meal is about to be served.”

“Oh.” I sat up slowly, in case he was closer than I thought and I butted his head. 

The bed shifted, and I started at the feel of his calloused palm cupping my cheek. He whispered my name, and although I couldn’t see him, my lips parted. I’d welcome another kiss. “Pero….”

“I would have you say my name just so, when you are under me,” he rasped.

I lifted my hand up and covered his fingers with my own. “When you kissed me - during the fight. Did you mean it?”

A beat of silence passed. Then Tovar whispered; “with my very soul, _mi vida._ Had I met my end inside the jaws of one of those beasts, my strongest regret would have been dying without a taste of you.”

I had never been so aroused in my entire life.

“Pero, I-”

A gong all but reverberated the walls and I jerked in surprise.

“What is _that_?”

“The dinner bell.” Tovar leaned forward with a sigh, pressing his forehead to mine. I slid my hand up his arm, felt only a soft tunic, no armour. “We _must_ eat. If we leave here, who knows when we will have fresh food again. And later, we have much to talk about, no?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ballard chances his arm, and Jade and Pero grow closer.

I barely tasted the food served at dinner. It looked delicious - that same soft, pillowy bread, filled with herbs, glutinous rice and noodles flaked with fat flecks of white fish.

William sat a few benches away, talking animatedly with Commander Lin. She gazed at him with her head slightly tilted, chin resting on her balled hand. _Yeah_ , I thought. _You’re toast._ She might as well have had those little tweety love birds circling her head like in the cartoons.

If William didn’t get laid tonight I’d be amazed.

As for me..

Tovar sat beside me, thigh pressed to mine. He’d whipped my plate out from under me and taken it upon himself to choose me all the choicest looking cuts of meat and fish, then practically tossed it on the table. “Eat.”

His delivery could’ve been better, true, but his heart was in the right place, and it absolutely melted me.

“I’m not a dog,” I said, more for form than anything else.

He filled my cup. “And why not? As a boy I had a dog, a pup I found on the outskirts of a farmer’s land. That pup was so loyal to me. His fur soaked up my tears of hunger and fear, his yips were a balm to my loneliness. At night he curled around me in my bed of old blankets and kept me warm.”

My eyes burned. “Pero, I-”

Commander Lin stood as a soldier banged on a small gong to signal an order for silence.

She spoke first in Mandarin and then in English. As I watched her I spied Ballard on the other side of the room, and he looked straight at me, something unreadable on his narrow, weasel-like face.

“We train again tomorrow at dawn. A Tao Tei nest has been sighted some distance away and to date it is dormant, but we cannot let down our guard, and we have new recruits to prepare. The Spaniard and the Irishman will help teach us the ways of their swords and bows. Extra weapons in our arsenal.”

Tovar’s brow quirked as he glanced over at me. His leg was warm against mine, comforting.

_I have to get back to my time. To the Armouries; to Emma. I have to get back to my life._

But it was difficult to remember that with him so close. My gaze tracked over his face. In the candlelit chamber, his face was cast in gold and amber, cheekbones kissed in shadow, his brown eyes bottomless and large in his tanned face, his hair curling waywardly over his forehead and at the nape of his neck.

But what future did we really have? I didn’t want to stay here, in a world with no email, no electricity, no phones, no modern medicine, no _soft mattresses_ , no coffee. Shit, no coffee. No dentists.

No c-sections.

No _antibiotics_.

The assembled warriors thumped the table together in agreement and the Commander sat. I spied William looking at her as if she’d hung the moon. I couldn’t see him leaving any time soon. I couldn’t begrudge him the happiness; he was just so bloody _nice_.

“Eat,” Tovar bade me again, lifting a tender bite of fish to my lips. I took it from his hand without thinking, and my tongue swept out to brush the tip of his thumb. His eyes went dark as I tasted the salt and texture of his skin, and I couldn’t resist sucking just a tiny part of his digit into my mouth, for a second.

His gaze turned feral.

The clearing of a throat by our table made me want to throw the interrupter off a cliff. Right now.

Ballard stood over me, his face tight in a frown. “I want to talk,” he hissed.

I had no interest in talking.

“It is time to eat,” Tovar muttered, tearing off a strip of soft bread. He shoved half at me.

I took it, more to avoid looking at Ballard than anything else. 

“Later?” Ballard asked. His right eye twitched. He was planning something. I was sure of it.

“No,” Tovar bit off. His thigh pressed tight to mine. Yeah. I knew what he had planned for later. And right now I couldn’t bring myself to think of all the reasons why we shouldn’t tear each other’s clothes off.

“I promise you, you will be interested in my proposition,” Ballard began silkily. The tone of his voice made my skin crawl. 

Tovar’s hand clenched into a fist on the table. “Not interested, _amigo_.”

Ballard crouched by the table. “Not even if I say that I can fetch you the key to the room where all the weapons and black powder are stored? You strike me as a man interested in _profit_ , Spaniard.”

I opened my mouth to say something to Tovar, but I stopped myself. I had no right. He’d been living his life as he saw fit before me, and he would do so after I had returned home. To my time. To 2019.

When I got back, Tovar would be a footnote in history.

And if leaving him to live his life in the past made me unbearably sad, then I pushed that down, scooped up some noodles.

“And you,” Ballard switched focus to me. “You want to leave here. I see it in your eyes. The four of us can go together.”

I jerked my head to William. “I doubt he’ll be interested.”

Ballard snorted. “All men are interested in power and riches, and the black powder can bring both.”

Beside me, I felt Tovar tense. This was why he and William had journeyed all this way, wasn’t it? And why would he throw over the goal of probably months, or even years, for me, an acquaintance of a few days?

My stomach felt sour and I forced down another bite of noodles, the taste turning to ash on my tongue.

“Another time, Ballard,” Tovar said dismissively, tearing off more bread and once again shoving some at me. “I am spoken for this evening.”

The reed-thin Englishman hovered for another few moments, but Tovar shifted on the bench, half-turning to me, signalling to Ballard that the conversation was over for now. The sunken lead weight in my stomach lightened.

The danger had passed; for now.

It really was none of my business what Pero Tovar did or didn’t do.

So why did the thought of leaving him hurt so much?

******

We bid goodnight to William shortly after dinner. A few of the soldiers were making merry, juggling with cups, some playing asian instruments.

Tovar and I walked down the long corridors to the room I’d been asleep in. The blankets on the bed were neatly folded, and the room suddenly seemed small with him inside it, his broad, unarmoured form dominating the space.

“ _Hermosa_ ,” he began. The candlelight from the wall sconces bathed his face of planes and angles, and I wanted to stroke his hair. Among other things.

“We have to be up at dawn,” I interrupted, feeling like I walked the very fine line between excitement and exhaustion. “I’m sorry. I know…. I mean, we wanted..” 

Christ. I felt like I was sixteen again, standing by the back of the bike sheds with my crush. My face flamed.

Tovar gestured to the bed. I sat, and he sat, too.

I stared straight ahead, feeling so awkward in my new robes, the fabric soft but so unfamiliar. I missed my bikini-cut panties, my jeans, my sweater.

“I sort of preferred it when we argued,” I said weakly.

Tovar huffed out a laugh, and took my hand, lacing our fingers together.

His eyes caught the light, a deep hazelnut, little crinkles at the edges proof that he laughed often. I wanted to see some of that joy sketched on his handsome, weathered face. “We can still argue if you wish.”

“I’ll miss it if we don’t.” 

And I would, I realised. I’d miss the spark of fury in his eyes. Miss his sarcastic twang, his sulky huffs.

I never wanted to see him die at another man’s hand. In the jaws of a Tao Tei. I never wanted to see him lifeless, eyes shut in finality.

“ _Princesa_. Will you tell me where you are really from?”

His question was so earnest that I hesitated. “William didn’t tell you?”

“No.”

“It’s a long story,” I hedged, covering the other side of his hand in mine, stroking my fingers over his wrist, feeling the skin roughened by the elements, by weaponry, by a hard life lived.

“We have time.”

The moon shone in through the open shutters, and I looked from it to Tovar’s face. The moonlight kissed the tousled curls of his hair, and all I wanted was to hold him and forget about the world and that I was stuck in the arse-end of the fifteenth century.

“Do you think you would just hold me? For tonight?”

Something in his face softened. “ _Si, querida._ Lie down,” he whispered, and I did, scooting over.

Tovar shucked off his boots and lay down beside me, the mattress shifting at the addition of his weight. He turned on his side and I did the same, presenting my back to him, and he automatically curled his arm around my stomach, settling me into the curve of his body, bending his legs slightly so I was cradled.

“You think perhaps I will judge you, _princesa_?” he asked softly into my hair. “If you tell me where you are from. I will not.”

I covered his hand on my stomach with my own, tangling our fingers again. “I don’t think that.”

“Then what?”

His mouth brushed my ear, and I shivered at the contact of his moustache. “It’s a ridiculous story.”

“I will listen anyway.” He pressed a kiss to the spot below my ear. 

My eyes fluttered close. His embrace made me feel… safe. I snuggled back into him. “Pero..”

“ _Si,_ _mijita_?”

“I don’t want to talk.” I turned my head, looked into his eyes. The moonlight caressed the pale skin of the scar on his face, and I was reminded of the axe with the carving on the butt of the handle. A representation of his scar? A mark of ownership? You needed to find that axe. “I just want you to hold me, please.”

I knew I had to go home, and to do that I would have to leave Pero. I didn’t know how long we had, and as much as I wanted to feel him inside me, owning me, I also wanted this.. closeness.

His free hand stroked over my hair. “Until the sun rises, _mi vida._ ”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexytimes in this chapter.

Pero made good on his word. I woke to the splintery light of the sun peeking through the shutters, dancing over my face. The Spaniard lay warm and solid behind me, his face tucked into the curve where my neck and shoulder met. His breath fluttered over my skin. I wiggled experimentally, testing for pins and needles.

Instead, I felt the evidence of Pero’s desire for me - or perhaps just a usual morning occurrence for men.

Either way, I was in the mood to take advantage of it.

Falling asleep last night, I’d come to the conclusion that Pero and I would only enjoy limited time together. I had to face facts. This was what, the 14th century? He probably wouldn’t live much longer, and certainly not if he continued this career path. The life expectancy of sellswords was much shorter than that of normal folk.

Which wasn’t saying much.

Added to that, I _had_ to get back to 2019. I could not stay here. Okay, maybe I would have to stay here, but if I didn’t try, I was going to be staring malnutrition, homelessness, and an early death in the face.

But for now, for now I had a warm, kind, gorgeous man wrapped around me, and reality could be kept out just a while longer.

“Morning,” I whispered.

“ _Mijita_ ,” Pero murmured into my neck. His moustache and heavy stubble tickled, and I wiggled my butt against him again. He hissed in a breath. 

“You held me all night,” I marvelled softly.

“I gave my word, no? What is a man without the honour of his word?” His voice was huskier, scratchy from sleep, deeper. “Jade.”

My name in that voice made for sin made my stomach bottom out and I twisted in his arms, plastering myself against him, lifting my face for his kiss.

“I want you,” I murmured against his lips, and he kissed me deeply. “Please, Pero.”

I wondered how I would explain that I had a contraception implant. Perhaps he wouldn’t ask. 

If we got that far. Should I even-

“ _Querida_ ,” he breathed, and then he rolled me on to my back, the weight of him solid and warm and so welcome. My legs spread almost of their own volition and he settled between them, pressing his hips into mine with a deep groan. “It has been a long time for me, si?” he panted, his eyes closed. “I want to make this good for you.”

“It will be.” I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulled him down for another kiss, used my free hand to fumble with the ties on his breeches. He let out a string of husky curses when I palmed him greedily, squeezing, stroking.

He felt like Heaven.

I shouldn’t have sex with him. I wanted to. _Fuck_ , I wanted to. So much. I’d never been on fire like this. But this was way before any sort of STI testing and I hated that I was thinking so clinically.

He stilled my hand. “You cannot-”

“Let me give this to you.”

He dropped his head, our foreheads touching as he braced himself above me on shaky arms, his gaze lust-blown. I shoved my robes open and he growled low in his throat, approvingly. His wordless praise made me feel like a 50s pinup, a goddess of old, a fairy in an enchanted garden.

“ _Hermosa_ ,” he groaned deeply, and then bent his head to lavish attention on my breasts as I let both my hands play on him. The clear liquid evidence of his arousal slicked down to lubricate my palms as I worked him, his ragged pants and growls stoking my own need for him. He scraped at my nipple with his teeth and the blur of pleasure and pain made me arch my hips up. Pero thrust forward into my hands, his breaths hitching faster. _“Por favor,”_ he ground out, the movements of his mouth getting sloppier, less coordinated. Each lap of his tongue wound the tension inside me tighter. I stroked my thumb over the swollen head of him, learning his ridges and curves, tightened my fist.

“You’re _gorgeous_ ,” I whispered against his hair, scenting rosemary soap, the lingering ghost of fresh bread. “Oh, Pero. I love touching you like this.”

His body bowed and my knuckles brushed the bare skin of my stomach as his hips started to stutter. 

“Come for me. Let go,” I urged, and with a long, low groan, almost of pain, he shuddered in my arms and I felt the hot spill of his seed on my bare skin. His cock pulsed in my hand.

Pero panted against me as I gently stroked him through the high. He keened as his orgasm ebbed, panting until I removed my hands after one last stroke, and he collapsed to the side of me, kissing my face, mumbling what sounded like praise in breathy Spanish. 

He returned his kisses, threading my fingers through his tumble of hair, stroking the hook of his nose, the little indent in his lower lip, a kiss from the angels who made him.

After a few moments he slid off the end of the cot, padding across the room to the bucket of water, wringing out a cloth and gently cleaning me off. 

My body hummed with desire and I opened my arms. Pero came back to bed willingly, kissing me deeply, his hands immediately opening my robes even further, fingers delving under the waistbands of the plain linen drawers I’d been provided with.

“Oh, _hermosa_. So wet for me.” He slid his fingers over me, gently exploring, skirting around my clit until I fisted my hands in his tunic.

“Quit playing.”

His lips curved, mischief dancing in those soulful brown eyes, and it lightened my heart to see that. His smile was pure sunshine. “Demanding. I like this.” And then he touched me with his sword-callused hands, skin tanned and slightly rough from the outdoors, and my hips came off the bed.

I yanked his face down for a kiss, biting into his lower lip, and he growled low in his throat, approvingly. He let his thumb expertly worry my clit as he thrust one and then two fingers inside me, and I felt my muscles begin to flutter. “Pero….”

“It is magic, no, my name in your voice just so.” He upped the tempo of his fingers inside me, pressing down with his thumb, once, twice, and then I splintered apart, and the room span for moments that stretched.

He soothed me through it, stroking gently, until I shivered and gently pushed his hand away, instead pulling him down to me for a cuddle.

“Pero.” _I think I love you_ hovered on the tip of my tongue. But I couldn’t do that to him. I shouldn’t even have gotten this close. What would he do when I went home? Where would he go? Would he marry? Have children? My heart constricted and I pressed my face into the cords of his neck, my mouth trembling uncontrollably, the chemical release of an orgasm breaking the dam of feelings inside me.

*********

He sat on the plane as the crew went through the motions of the safety talk, worrying the little circular birthmark at the root of his left thumb. It was still burning, not painfully, but as if his body was trying to tell him something that he didn’t yet understand. 

He set his phone to airplane mode, looked at the photo of the dog he’d left in the care of his mother, and tried to focus on the safety presentation. When it was over, he once again silently practiced what he was going to say when he arrived at the London Armouries tomorrow.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade and Pero enjoy an intimate morning.

The sun was stronger now. We’d be roused from our privacy very soon.

Pero curled around me, blissfully naked, and I lazily mapped his scars with my fingers. 

“I’m from the future,” I blurted out against his chest, because there was no easy way to say it.

He huffed out a breath. “Before, I would have said such a thing was not possible, but now… the monsters, the  _ dragons, _ si - they make me believe that many things in this world exist beyond the simple comprehension of a sellsword. No?”

“You’re not simple.”

He pressed a kiss to my hair. “ _ Querida, _ I am. No shame in it. I sell my sword for coin, I sleep when fighting has exhausted me, and one day I will die and return to the earth. Simple, don’t you think?”

His words cut me to the quick and I snuggled into him, breathing him in, the faint scent of lemon oil, clean sweat and leather.

“You must go back to your own time, si?” Pero breathed against my hair. I heard the frown in his voice.

“I have to try,” I replied, but dread coiled in my stomach, thick and hot and unwelcome. “Pero…”

He rolled our bodies so he was on top of me, caging me in, and the weight of his naked form atop me was complete and utter bliss. I spread my legs automatically, muscles clenching at the feel of him erect, heavy on my belly.

“Were I displaced in time, I would want to go home, too. There is a man waiting for you, perhaps?” he asked solemnly, his gaze locked on mine, his brown eyes impossibly sad. “Someone pure who has won your heart?”

Tears streaked out of the corners of my eyes and I hugged him tightly to me. “The only person who has won my heart is sharing this bed with me.”

Something flashed in his soulful chocolate eyes, and then he was kissing me, fervently, hot and sweet. Every inch of me ached to take him inside my body, be as close to him as I could ever be.

“ _ Te adoro,” _ he whispered, his voice harsh and ragged, his breathing shallow. “ _ Te adoro, mi alma.” _

We held each other for a long few moments. I listened to his heart beating. I was an atheist but for once, I  _ prayed _ it continued beating long after I left him. Prayed for him to find love with a sweet-hearted woman who’d care for him in his dotage. See through his grumpy, weathered exterior.

“Do you think perhaps I could find you? In the future?” Pero asked, his voice thready, lashed bare with need. “I do not know if… but if there was a way? If such a thing were to be possible. If  _ Dios _ allowed it.”

My heart  _ ached. _ “Maybe,” I said, more for his benefit than mine. “I have no idea how this works. It was your axe that sent me here, I think. How did you get it?”

He cleared his throat, as if about to tell a grand tale, and then a loud thumping on the door interrupted us.

“Tovar, Jade, time to get up and about!” William’s voice carried under the heavy wooden slab separating us from the no doubt curious gaze of those outside. 

I pulled Pero’s face down for a kiss, breathing him in, trying desperately to commit his flavour to memory, my palms roving greedily over his broad back and shoulders, wishing I could somehow draw the feel of his golden, supple skin into my own muscle memory.

“Tovar!” William called again. “The training, aye?”

“We promised, Pero,” I murmured into his neck.  _ Fuck, _ he smelled fantastic. 

Pero lifted his head briefly from where he was busying himself kissing a bruise into the skin just below my pulsepoint. I had never before had a lovebite. I hoped it never faded. “William, do not make me ruin our friendship by separating your fool head from your neck _,_ _si, amigo?”_ he bellowed, and then pressed his cock into the softness of my belly, returning his lips to my neck. I shivered at the scrape of his heavy stubble. “ _Mi amor._ If I must lose you soon, do not make me spend this time anywhere other than in the sweet embrace of your body.”

A wave of sadness rose up inside me and I wrapped my legs around his hips. I wanted him to fuck me into oblivion and damn the consequences.

“Five minutes or I’m breaking this door down,” William shouted. “Don’t be an arse, for bloody once, Tovar.”

Pero muttered something that sounded like  _ cabrón _ and then rolled off me after one last punishing kiss. His cock stood to attention, curving heavily against his stomach and my mouth watered. 

“Ten minutes,” I yelled out to William.

I heard shuffling, then he replied, “Christ, I was wondering if he’d dragged you in there by your hair, Jade.”

I snorted. “What makes you think I didn’t drag  _ him _ ?” I shouted back.

I heard William’s huff of disgust. “Jesus fucking Christ. I’m sorry I asked. Meet us on the battlements and for feck’s sake put some clothes on.”

I snickered as I heard the tail end of Commander Lin’s soft voice, and footfalls leaving. I swung my leg over Pero’s lean, tanned body, immediately capturing his cock with both my hands, working him over. His eyes widened for a second and then he jerked his hips up, thrusting into my palms, and settled his hands at my hips, groaning deeply. “ _ Hermosa. _ ”

“I want to feel you come undone,” I whispered, watching him slowly unravel at my touch. “Love seeing your face.”

A jumble of filthy Spanish fell from Pero’s lips as he writhed underneath me. “ _ Por favor,” _ I just about made out as he bucked desperately into my hands. I tightened my fingers on him. He felt like steel encased in velvet. 

“I wish I never had to stop touching you,” I sighed, working him closer to his orgasm. He was slippery with his own arousal now and my hands moved faster. His fingers dug into the meat of my hips. I didn’t care if he left bruises. I  _ longed _ to be marked by him. “Pero, I wish...”

“Stay,” he gasped out, desperate, his gaze fixed on mine. He moved a hand over to where both of mine stroked him, laced our fingers. “Stay. Take my name. I would lay down my sword for you. Anything you wish.  _ Todo lo que quieras _ .”

My eyes burned. I bent over, kissed him full on the mouth. “Come for me, Pero. I want to feel you.”

He bit off a curse word and his cock jerked in our joined hands before he painted his stomach with his spend. I kissed him through it and pretended, half desperately, that he hadn’t just proposed marriage, pretended I wasn’t considering staying in the past just to be his wife.

To be the one he came home to. The one he would protect with his life. The one he loved above all others.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade declares her love for Pero.

Pero and I made our way, clothed, William would be pleased to see, to the battlements for training, but Ballard intercepted us. I glanced at his weasley face, annoyed. “What do you want, Ballard?”

His eyes narrowed. “To talk.”

Tovar made a sound that was half scoff, half growl. “You want to talk, you do it while we walk,  _ si?” _ He slid his hand down my arm, tangling our fingers, and my heart grew in my chest. I’d never have pegged Pero as a hand-holding man.

Then again he had just proposed marriage, so-

Ballard scurried to keep up with Pero’s stride, his robes rippling in the wind rustling down from the battlements above. “There has been a nest sighted nearby. Tonight a search party is going scouting for it. It is the perfect opportunity to break into the armoury. We can fetch your weapons and steal all the black powder we need.”

I chewed my lip. Gunpowder wouldn’t help me get back to the future.

“All the black powder  _ you _ need,” Pero snapped. “You are not an altruistic man, Ballard. This will benefit you more than us, no?”

The stairs were in sight. Ballard grabbed my arm, yanking me back against him. I gasped, but I needn’t have feared. Pero dealt him a mean right hook, flooring the older man.

He loomed over Ballard, who writhed on the floor. “You dare to touch her again and I will take your hand,” he said slowly, careful, deliberate words in a low, calm growl. “Is that understood,  _ amigo? _ ”

Ballard nodded once, shaking. His robes had rucked up in his fall and his legs looked thin; rickety. I felt a twitch of sympathy for him.

“Pero-” I started, moving towards him.

Pero grabbed me and eased me back against the wall, plundering my mouth in a searing, consuming kiss. I squeaked in surprise, but quickly got with the programme, carding my hands through his thick, dark hair.

“I protect what’s mine,  _ querida,” _ he rasped against my lips, his hands roving over my back, holding me as close to him as possible with his leathers in the way. “He will never touch you again, I swear it.”

I’d never been much for the caveman kind of guy, but we were in wild times. Who knew whether Ballard had a knife secreted in that robe.

“Pero..” I cupped his cheek, traced my thumb over the bottom of his eye scar, fearsome to some, but to me just another part of his topography. “I love you.”

The words had come out of my mouth without intention. I couldn’t take them back, and nor should I.

I met Pero’s eyes. His were wet, and he lowered his mouth to kiss me again, this time soft and sweet and full of unsaid promises. My chest  _ ached _ as I held his face close to mine, breathing him in, wishing I never had to leave him. Wishing I could take him with me.

_ “Te adoro, _ ” he breathed, his words almost carried away on the breeze, and, unashamed, I cried in his arms.

*********

Training lasted most of the day, with a break for lunch - a thick noodle soup, flavoured with coriander, ginger and garlic and garnished with dried fish.

After lunch Commander Lin, with William seated at her elbow, I noted with a flash of pride, announced that a hunting party would be going out to scout for the Tao Tei nest.

In the corner of the huge stone chamber, Ballard nursed his sore nose, eating his dinner carefully, a stack of books on his table. I ignored the sour looks he sent my way.

The dishes were cleared away, and the sound of footfalls made me look up.

William stood by our table, excitement sketched on his broad, pale face. “Tovar. Are you coming on the scouting party? We’ve never had an opportunity like it. And Jade - I’ve seen you in action. You should come, too.”

I hesitated. I’d fought those monsters once and survived. Would I be so lucky a second time?

Pero’s hand tightened on my thigh, under the table. He had been quiet over dinner, perhaps because he was tired, or perhaps because he’d been waiting for an invite to join the expedition.

“It’s just scouting,” William added. “But skilled warriors are always an asset.”

I felt the tension in Pero’d body. Combat was his lifeblood. I turned to him, a question clearly on my face.

Pero nodded. “I will come. Jade?”

I could no more be parted from him than stop breathing, I realised, sadness and joy warring inside me. “Me, too.”

William grinned broadly, clapping Pero on the shoulder. “It’s settled, then. We ride out after the sun sets.” He looked between us, his smile wide and just a little cheeky. “You decided to choose the  _ fuck _ option during all your fighting, then?” 

“Get lost, William,” Pero groused, but I heard the smile in his voice.

**********

Pero and I stood together on the battlements as the sun set, kissing the desert around the expanse of the wall in burnished gold. I leaned into him, wishing things could be different. Wishing for so many things.

“I begin to think I have offended you,” Pero began.

His voice was pitched lower than usual. A little unsure. I looked up at him, askance.

“By asking you to be my wife. I am lowborn, no? And you, surely you are someone that matters in your time. You would be marrying beneath you.”

My mouth dropped open. “That’s why you were so quiet over dinner? How could you think that?”

He turned to face me, cupped my cheek. The rays of the setting sun, all yellow, gold and crimson, bathed his face, making him impossibly beautiful. “What else am I to think,  _ hmmm? _ You have not given me an answer.”

“You are  _ not _ beneath me,” I half-shouted. “How could you think that? I don’t belong here, Pero. I need to get back to my time. And what if I married you and left you, huh? Isn’t that worse?”

His gaze held mine for a moment that stretched, gold shot through his chocolate irises by the sun as it descended. “Perhaps it would not be worse for me,  _ mi alma. _ Perhaps I wish to know a night of unrivalled pleasure between the thighs of my wife, no?” He skimmed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip, as gentle as the brush of butterfly wings. “Know the clench of her sweet cunt around me. Know the shivers of her body as I worship her with my hands, mouth, cock.”

My knees were weak. My heart pounded. 

I’d never been so wet.

Why was I fighting this? He knew I was leaving and still he wanted to be my husband, for a night. 

Maybe there was a  _ reason _ I hadn’t married yet in my time. Maybe all along, I’d been meant for Pero Tovar.

He ghosted kisses over my cheeks, on to my closed eyelids, and finally claimed my mouth, his tongue dancing with mine, and I moaned into the kiss, holding him tightly, uncaring that his chainmail coat bit into me. 

“I am a proud man,  _ hermosa,” _ Pero murmured against my mouth. “I cannot promise I will ask again.”

Fear scraped its teeth inside me, and I clenched my hands in his armour. “Yes. Yes. I want everything you said.”

He growled something in Spanish, kissing down to my pulse point and laving the little bruise he’d put there. “ _Por favor._ _Te necescito._ I beg you. Do not make me live another moment without feeling you around me.”

My heartbeat roared in my ears. I couldn’t have said no even if he’d demanded I strip naked and run up and down the dining chamber. I was in his thrall, those compelling coffee eyes lashing me bare. I could only nod breathlessly, reaching for the ties on his breeches, fumbling in my haste.

Pero was on the same page, rucking up my robes. I wore no underwear and he swore, long and guttural, as he found me soaked. “ _ Mi alma,” _ he groaned. “Now. I beg you.” He shifted his hands and lifted me up, carrying me to the nearest wall. The setting sun cast its warmth on my face as I finally freed Pero from his breeches, positioning him. He held me up with one arm, circling my clit with the fingers of his free hand. I teetered on the edge of the precipice, positioning him. He felt like steel in velvet and I smoothed my thumb over the head, wet with his arousal. 

His knees shook, and he groaned against my mouth, panting. Desire made me blind, deaf and dumb to everything but the man in my arms. I could barely have told you my own name as I slipped just the head of him into my entrance, pleasure spiking as he slid inside, achingly slowly, until he was seated to the hilt. 

It was bliss unlike any I’d ever known. The stretch was  _ divine. _ Pero breathed heavily, resting his forehead against mine, his hips stuttering. 

“Please,” I half-sobbed, hitching my legs higher around his hips.

“ _ Cielo _ . Heaven. I will not last,” he warned, the words bitten off, his eyes squeezed closed. 

“I don’t care. Let me feel you.”

With a growl, he buried his head in my shoulder, biting the curve where it met my neck, his hips pistoning, setting a punishing rhythm. The sounds of our bodies moving together was obscene, and the flutters of an orgasm chased through my blood. I fisted one hand in his hair and the other in his chainmail. The metal dug into my palm. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t have been separated from him even if Tao Tei had started to crawl up the battlements. 

The Spanish falling from Pero’s lips was nearly unintelligible as he chased his high and mine. He hiked up one of my legs, hitting a new angle, and the climax hit me like a freight train. I sobbed his name over and over and he thrusts became sloppy, shallow. 

“Come for me,” I whispered into his hair, and he did, groaning long and low, and I wished I could capture the sound forever, to enjoy over and over.

His orgasm seemed to go on and on as he hips faltered once, then twice. He whispered my name and I felt the hot rush of him emptying inside me. I held him close, kissing his hair, and wondering what it would be like to return to my life whilst leaving my heart in the past.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We check in with our modern-day traveller, and back in China, Jade et al find the Tao Tei nest

He paced in the hotel room that overlooked Hyde Park. A bit of a splurge, but why not? It wasn’t like he had much else to spend his dollars on. He sat down heavily on the bed, thought about sleeping, discarded the idea.

“Shit, William, what would you say right now?” he asked into the room.

His old CO had always known what to say, how to say it. An Irish-American who always seemed happy go lucky, a hard man, but fair, who never had a bad word to say about anyone, he’d been one of the best COs. 

Scratch that.  _ The  _ best.

He pulled out his phone, woke it up and scrolled to the picture he’d snapped of the letter.

William had written them to all the men in his unit, and they’d been given out when he died.

_ Zach _

_ It was an honour to serve with you. I couldn’t have asked for a better marine. _

_ You once asked me never to stop making you a better man, but I’d argue that you made me the better man. All of you did. _

_ I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch after your tour ended.  _

_ Why didn’t I? Cowardice? Shame?  _

_ I should’ve protected you better and I hope you can forgive me and that you’ll find your way. I so want you to have all you deserve. I always felt there was a piece of you missing, Zach, and I know you felt it, too. I pray you find it, or it finds you. _

He clicked his phone screen off and stretched out on the bed. The sounds of traffic filtered up from below, muted. Zach circled his right thumb on the birthmark on his left hand, thoughtfully, and let his mind wander to Jade Yuan.

He'd dreamed of her on the plane, snatches of things that could only be memories. Kisses. Whispered words and… conjugal bliss. He'd been very thankful of the blanket concealing his aroused state from other passengers.

Maybe he hadn't had enough counselling, post-discharge? 

Was this what going mad felt like?

********

“William tells me congratulations are in order,” Commander Lin began in Mandarin as the search party made our way out of the gates, mounted on horseback. For the first time I had command of my own horse, a crossbow slung over my back, and I’d been lent a suit of armour. The weight had been astonishing at first, but I’d rather have borne the brunt of the metal than have my body separated by a Tao Tei.

I smiled over at her. “Thanks. Yes. It was… unexpected.”

Amusement flickered over her fine-boned features. “Perhaps you would like the hand-fasting ceremony here, on the wall? We would release lanterns across the kingdom.”

My breath caught at the idea. Ahead, my gaze lit on Pero’s back as he sat straight in the saddle. The line of his shoulders, the tapering of his torso into his waist; everything about him made desire pool low in my belly. It had been less than an hour since I’d felt him inside me and I already wanted him again, more than I wanted my next breath.

“.....beautiful sight, unrivalled.”

“Sorry?” I jerked back to Lin, aware that she had been speaking. “I was, um-”

“I know what you were doing.” She smiled slyly. “I cannot say I am not equally enamoured with William.”

I laughed. “I’ve noticed.”

“He is unlike any man I’ve met.” Her lips pursed. “Well. I suppose he is  _ similar  _ to William Ballard, but-”

“Why do you let him stay?” I blurted out. “I think he’s plotting against you.”

Lin smiled slowly, the look in her eyes rather predatory. “Oh, I know, he is. But sometimes you must keep your friends close and your enemies closer still. Imagine if we let him loose - he has the potential to drum up hundreds of men to storm our gates. We have enough of a struggle to keep the Kingdom safe from the Tao Tei.”

“Do you think we’ll find the nest?” I asked, watching as William and Pero laughed together about something ahead.

Lin’s brow furrowed. “I hope so. But I would be surprised if it was the only one. We will still need to be vigilant.”

The thirty of us, all on horseback, made our way across the desert landscape by moonlight. Pero looked back at me, his eyes dark pools, the scar on his face kissed by the starlight, and once again he stole my breath. I smiled for him alone, and one corner of his mouth curved up, and I thought -  _ for him, I would stay. _

Wouldn’t I rather live in this time with the man I loved, than return to my world of the tube, the internet, and TV, and live in misery?

A shout from the head of the scouting party made me sit up straight in my saddle.

Lin rode away from me, streaming past William and Pero to get to the front. I watched her hop off her horse as easily as breathing, crouching.

Eventually our party surrounded what looked like a meteor crater, what must have been  _ hundreds _ of broken eggshells littered inside it. One egg remained intact, easily the size of a human toddler, emerald green in colour, with white veins layering the surface. It would have been quite beautiful if I hadn’t known its contents were so deadly.

One of the soldiers dismounted and bent to touch the remnants of eggshell, some with emerald goop pooled on the fragments.

“Don’t-” William half-shouted, but the soldier had made contact, his fingers covered in the sticky green substance. 

I relaxed when William offered him a cloth taken from his saddlebag, but before the soldier could take it, the screaming started.

I watched in horror as his fingers began to  _ dissolve _ under the emerald goop, as if he’d dipped his hand in acid. And it didn’t stop, the tendrils of green devouring the soldier’s digits inch by glacial inch.

“Mother of God,”Pero breathed.

The soldier writhed, agony in his screams.

I grabbed a sword from the nearest horse and did the only thing I could think of - I hacked off his hand.

William and Lin worked together to form a tourniquet to stop the bleeding while Pero used an arrow to carefully scoop the other egg fragments, and the intact egg, into an empty saddlebag, padding it out with cloth a soldier unwound from his robes.

The ride back was quiet. Pero rode alongside me, the unfortunate soldier in front of us, quietly sobbing. He was far too young to lose a hand in that way.

“You did what you could,” Pero murmured to me. “I should have done it. You dealt him a kindness.”

“The egg lining is poisonous,” William said as he rode up on the other side of me. “Lin’s going to get the tacticians to study it. Perhaps we can use it, somehow.”

Pero grunted in response.

Unfettered, William continued, "Lin said you might have the binding ceremony. On the wall."

Pero glanced at me, a question on his face.

"Oh. Yes. She talked to me about it on the ride here. Haven't asked Tovar yet, so thanks William," I drawled.

The Irishman chuckled and rode off ahead.

Pero touched my hand for a moment. "This is what you want, si? I want to be sure," he asked, as the wall loomed ahead of us.

"It is." I squeezed his fingers.

Lin and William waited for us at the huge gate. "We have lanterns left over from a handfasting held last Winter," she announced. "You can be wed tomorrow. Every day is an extra gift when you live under siege from the Tao Tei," she added at my surprise of the speed of arrangements. "Why wait?"

Pero nodded. "I am anxious for Jade to be mine. In every way."

His insinuation didn't break Lin's calm facade, but she gestured to one of the soldiers.

"Leong, lead Tovar to a fresh room. He and Jade should not sleep together until after the binding ceremony."

Oh.

I was less keen on this idea now.

“Wait.” Pero guided his horse closer to mine and tugged me close for a kiss. I gave into it, wanting to taste him, whoever our audience. His faint groan as our tongues touched made heat flare between my legs.

“Pero,” I murmured sadly, as he broke the kiss.

“I  _ will _ be with you tonight,  _ mi alma, _ ” he whispered, and I couldn’t contain my grin.

He let himself be led away, still on horseback, by one of the soldiers.

“William?”

The Irishman quirked a brow at me. He looked good; happy, clean-shaven, the tiredness gone from his face when he looked at Lin. They were well suited. I could only imagine how gorgeous the babies would be, if they had any. “Aye?”

“Would you, um…” What did they call it in these times? I didn’t even know about ancient Chinese wedding ceremonies. “Would you give me away? To Pero, I mean. Tomorrow.”

A smile broke out on Lin’s face.

William looked at me solemnly. “It would be my honour, Jade. Come. Let’s sleep. Tomorrow’s shaping up to be a big day.”

As Lin led us inside, I looked up to see William Ballard on the battlements, watching silently.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wedding.

I lay in the dark, gazing up at the ceiling. On a wall hook opposite the bed hung a beautiful robe that Lin had given me before I retired to my room. It hadn’t been made for me - no time for that - but it was clearly ceremonial, a deep crimson, embroidered with cherry blossoms and intricate gold hexagons. I’d stroked my fingers reverently over the thick, silky fabric, imagining Pero’s gaze darkening when he saw me in it.

A noise at the window made me sit up in bed.

Swear words in Spanish reached my ears and a moment later, Pero’s head, then his shoulders, appeared in the window as he hauled himself over the stone sill.

I crossed the room and pulled him in, laughing as I grabbed his face for a kiss. I felt like a naughty teenager.

He tasted of tea, and I sighed as he licked into my mouth.

 _“Mi alma._ I said I would come. No matter the importance of tradition, I _need_ you.” 

He held me close and I looped my arms around his neck. His tunic felt soft under my palms and I rubbed up against him, thrilling at him already hard in his breeches. 

“Come to bed.” 

We kissed as we half-walked, half staggered across the room to the bed where he’d held me all night, and I pulled him down on it, my greedy hands pushing at his tunic. “I want you.”

“ _Cielo_ ,” Pero whispered, covering me with his body. He bucked against me as I shoved at the hem of his tunic, pushing it up so I could stroke his stomach, chest, and back, map his scars and kiss them with my fingers. Love every part of him as best I could.

He kissed and nibbled at my neck and I arched to give him better access. He stopped only so I could tug the tunic over his head and discard it somewhere on the floor. Pero was equally urgent and impatient, his hands parting my robes, finding me already wet for him.

“I have dreamed of tasting you here,” he murmured, sliding one finger inside me. I clenched around him, a fire raging in my belly.

“Please.”

He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth - such a chaste and sweet gesture considering what he was about to do - and slid down my body. I rucked up the skirts of my robes to give him better access, and he fell on me like a man presented with a feast, spreading me with one hand and working me over with the other, before his tongue skirted over me, hot and gentle, and I bucked into his face, gasping.

“Let go for me, _princesa_ ,” he murmured, and then he started to curl his tongue right _there_ , and I pressed a hand to my mouth, stifling a sob.

“Let me hear you,” he encouraged. “Let me hear the woman who will be my wife come from my touch.”

That did me in. He thrust another finger inside me and the motions of his tongue, the press of his fingers, and the tickle of his mustache threw me over the edge, and my muscles fluttered uncontrollably. I heard Pero swear thickly, and in the semi-darkness I saw him fumbling with his breeches. The moment he freed himself, I yanked him up my body. He lined himself up and I saw stars as he pushed inside me. Once again it was bliss unlike any I’d ever known.

Pero braced himself on his forearms and gazed down at me, his eyes whiskey-dark, bottomless pools. _“Te adoro,”_ he murmured, and my eyes burned, tears leaking out. Pero kissed them away, and for moments that seemed to stretch, we just stayed like that, him seated deep inside me, rocking his hips slowly and languidly, kissing my face.

I never wanted it to end. I cupped his sweet face, murmuring half-formed praises, just breathing him in.

“More?” he whispered.

“Just this. Please, for a little longer.” I wrapped my legs around his hips, taking him incrementally deeper, desperately fantasising about him in my bed in London, living a long life with me, reading the paper on Sunday, chasing a dog, or maybe a child, around Hyde Park. 

These things would never be, and my heart felt like it was already living outside my chest.

The tears came and I let them fall.

“Oh, _mi alma,”_ Pero soothed, banding his arms around me. “Do not cry.”

“I don’t want to think,” I sobbed. “Please. Just make my thoughts stop, for a little while.”

With a low growl, he rolled our bodies so I straddled him, his hands sure and confident on my hips, and I braced my palms on his bare chest. His heart beat against my fingers as I lifted myself up and dropped down, seating him fully again. He swore, low in his throat and I bent down, nipped the skin by his jaw, laving the tiny hurt with my tongue.

“ _Querida_.” He kept his gaze focused on mine as I drew back and he began to piston his hips up. I met him with every thrust, until my world narrowed to the feel of him, hot and hard inside me, the orgasm rocketing through every fibre of my being.

“Pero. Oh, _fuck_ , Pero.”

He moved a hand to the apex of my body, strumming me expertly. “Again.”

“Pero,” I moaned. “You feel so good. Never want to stop.”

He clenched his free hand on my hip, squeezing, encouraging me to move on him again. “Ride, _cielo_.”

And so I did.

Much later, he pressed a kiss to my sleepy lips. I lay boneless in the bed, floored by orgasms that had run into one another. “Sleep, _princesa_ , and tomorrow, we wed.”

I slid my hand into his hair, tugged gently, prolonged the kiss a moment more. I vaguely heard the sound of him sneaking out of the window again before slumber cupped its gentle hands around me.

*****

_I wish Emma was here. I wish I had my phone to take photos._

That afternoon, following a lunchtime meal where Pero was suspiciously absent - sleeping off our very active night, I suspected - I sat in Lin’s private chambers. The stone walls were adorned with ornate woven tapestries, and two dragons that looked to be wrought of solid gold sat on a dresser. Lin stood behind me, weaving golden ribbons and tiny cherry blossoms into my hair.

A rap on the door made me turn. “Come,” Lin called.

A soldier opened the door to reveal William wearing smartly pressed robes, his hair neatly tied with the same ribbon in my own dark locks.

“Jade,” he greeted me, then crossed the room to Lin, pressing a soft kiss to her lips when she lifted her face to his.

My whole heart warmed.

“Beggin’ your pardon for the interruption, but there’s something I’d like to recite at your handfasting.” William offered me a piece of paper.

I kept my amazement that he could write to myself. “Oh, this is-”

He flushed. “It’s in Gaelic. Sorry. I didn’t think.” He cleared his throat and recited it for me in English, and the bottom dropped out of my stomach at the beauty of the ‘verse he’d chosen.

“Thankyou.”

“Sure and you don’t mind?” His accent got more pronounced when he was nervous, I noted.

“I’d be honoured,” I smiled, echoing his earlier words.

He returned my smile. “Until sunset, then. Tovar’s preparing for the ceremony, too. Imagine my surprise to find him still abed at noon. It seems he had a busy night.”

I held his gaze, suppressing the urge to laugh. “I wouldn’t know.”

“‘Course not.” He gave Lin another chaste kiss before the door shut behind him.

I looked up at Lin and she smiled conspiratorially at me, and I thought: _I’ll miss her._

*********

I walked out on the battlements of the Great Wall, my hand tucked into William’s arm. He held his head high, the cut of his jaw handsome in the light of the setting sun, the rays of crimson and gold lighting on his flaxen hair.

I felt a sort of brotherly love for him, I realised as I smiled up into his dear face.

Two soldiers worked the mechanisms to fully open the huge oak double doors, and I gasped as I saw hundreds of the residents of the wall, each one holding a beautifully made paper lantern, glowing inside with a soft flame.

In a semi-circle stood about a dozen women armed with wide drums slung over their bodies.

Ballard stood off to the side, also finely dressed. His weasley face was passive, stoic, and I couldn’t read him.

And then my gaze alighted on Pero Tovar, and all the noise seemed to vanish.

His dark hair was neatly combed, his jaw freshly shaven and his mustache carefully trimmed. He wore a long black robe, trimmed with silky crimson and embroidered with the same golden thread in my own garb.

We made eye contact, and as I looked into the bottomless pools of his chocolate irises, I felt a surge of intense love.

William and I walked towards Tovar, who stood proud and tall beside Lin. My soon to be husband and I maintained eye contact throughout, and Pero offered his hand when I reached him. I tangled my fingers with his, and he lifted my knuckles to his lips.

“You look like Heaven,” he whispered for my ears alone.

I blinked quickly to hold back the tears that burned the backs of my eyes. 

Lin made an announcement in Mandarin about our handfasting and I whispered a translation for Pero.

Then William unfurled a roll of parchment in his hand, and read aloud:

> “You are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone.
> 
> I give you my Body, that we Two might be One.
> 
> I give you my Spirit, ‘til our Life shall be Done,
> 
> And the Honeycomb will ever taste Sweeter from my hand.”

Pero squeezed my hand. His own eyes were wet.

Lin drew a long ribbon, red and gold thread twined together along its length, out of the pocket of her embellished robe. She motioned for Pero to hold my other hand, and he did so, his eyes dark and warm.

The semi-circle of drummers around us started up a gentle rhythm as Lin wound the ribbon around our wrists. My heart ached, knowing that, unlike a modern wedding with a videographer, I would never be able to relive this moment through film.

Once our hands were bound, William brought forward a small tray with a wide, flat teapot and a single golden teacup balanced on it.

Lin poured the tea with deft, graceful movements, and then lifted the teacup to first my lips, then Pero’s. We drank.

The drummers reached a crescendo, and I watched in delight and amazement as the onlookers - our wedding guests - released their glowing lanterns into the air. I had never seen such a breathtaking spectacle. Each white globe floated up with the wind, spreading like a flock of birds, lighting up the encroaching darkness.

“It is done,” Lin announced as the drummers began to softly sing something in Mandarin, the melody as enchanting and compelling as the lanterns that flew above our heads, golden clouds in the night sky. “You are bound, with the spirits as witness.”

She gently unwound our hands and cut two lengths of ribbon that she then wound around each of our left wrists. “May no man rend you asunder.”

Pero pulled me into his arms and I went willingly, pressing my mouth urgently to his.

“Mine, forevermore,” he murmured, his voice thick, raspy. “I will never let you go, _cielo_. Know this. Whatever may separate us, time, distance, death even, I will find you.”

I melted against him. I might have been displaced from time, a nomad in my own life, but I had never remembered being so blissfully happy.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wedding feast, and that weasel Ballard makes another play.

I sat at a huge trestle table, Tovar on one side of me, William on the other.

Lin was sitting across the room with some of the strategists, deep in discussion.

“Have you thought about… staying?” William murmured in my ear as Tovar piled the choicest cuts of meat and fish from the table on to my platter.

My stomach cramped. In all the excitement, the battles, and my ever-encompassing feelings for Pero, I’d _thought_ about going home but hadn’t actually taken any _action_.

“It’ll break him in two,” William added, his voice low.

I eyed him. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

The Irishman sat back, folding his arms. “I’ve said my piece. Now that’s the end of it.”

I smiled. “It isn’t, is it?”

A laugh slipped out of him. “Not by a long shot. But for now, eat. Enjoy your wedding feast.”

I turned back to Pero, trying to calm my stomach. He speared a cut of meat on a small eating dagger, brought it to my lips.

“Eat, _querida_.”

I focused on the taste of the thick, juicy meat, of the feel of Pero’s hand, warm on my thigh. The meat melted on my tongue and I picked up a slice of fish with my fingers, offered it to Pero. He nipped it from my digits, his tongue brushing the tip of my thumb, and my inner muscles clenched thinking of tonight.

I was distracted when Lin approached the table, two soldiers following her, carting a trunk. They set it down and opened it.

“Wedding gifts,” she announced. “And the return of your axe, Spaniard.”

My stomach cramped.

The axe. The object I should have been looking for all this time. But instead I’d been falling in love.

As much as I tried to regret it, I found I could not.

Bolts of fabric lay in the wooden trunk, woven with gold fabric. Pouches of what could have been food or valuable trinkets nestled in the mound of fabric, and the axe - clean, the blade shimmering in the light from the blazing wall sconces, nestled like a treasure in the centre.

Pero’s hand clenched on my thigh.

 _He knows,_ I realised. _He knows what I’m thinking._

“Thankyou,” I said in Mandarin. “This is more kindness than we deserve.”

The soldiers bowed. Lin held my gaze for a moment, and then returned to her seat. Others in the room then came to wish us well, some bearing small gifts. Pero thanked them and I translated his words into Mandarin.

The young man whose hand I had severed the day before approached, thanking me disjointedly, his injured arm in a sling. My heart ached for him and how his life would be changed.

Finally, Ballard stood awkwardly before us. His eye was turning purple from where Pero had hit him. Had that only been yesterday?

“I want to apologise,” he muttered, in the worst apology I’d heard for some time. “For touching you. Jade. And I have a gift. If you would come with me, I can fetch it.”

I gave Pero a tiny shake of my head. I wasn’t intending to go anywhere with this man.

Pero’s hand squeezed my knee and I knew he was in full agreement. 

“Tomorrow there will be time enough, Ballard,” Pero drawled. “You are most kind to pay your respects.” His tone indicated that _kind_ was not the word he’d wanted to use.

I saw Ballard’s lip curl, but he bowed anyway, and slunk away. 

I let out a breath I wasn’t aware I’d been holding.

“The axe,” Tovar began. 

I pressed a kiss to his lips. “Time enough tomorrow,” I said, echoing his words. “I want to give us tonight.”

*******

William led us down the corridor. “A chamber’s been prepared for tonight,” he informed us cheerfully.

I watched his ponytail bob as he walked ahead of us. He seemed happy - more so than usual.

“I’m so happy for you and Lin,” I ventured.

William tossed a sunshine-bright smile over his shoulder. “I’d come to think I was too old for love, Jade. That I was done with it, and it with me. It seems I was wrong. I’ve never been so happy to be made a fool of.”

I squeezed Pero’s hand, and he looked down at me indulgently, his mouth tipping up in a smile.

William pushed a big door open, and all I could see was soft, soft light.

What must have been a hundred candles decorated every stone surface in sight, at least a dozen of varying heights on the windowsill, protected from the breeze by the shutters. A dresser held another swathe of them, tiny flames dancing in a re-enactment of the lanterns drifting into the night sky over our handfasting.

My breath caught in my throat.

The bed was wider than the cot I’d been sleeping in, the sheets looked soft and inviting. On a trunk at the foot of the bed sat our day robes, neatly laundered and folded, cherryblossom scattered across the fabric.

Candles lined the stone floor, pushed up against the wall.

The room glowed with love.

The backs of my eyes burned. “Oh, William-”

The Irishman held up his hands, palms out. “Don’t look at me. This was all Lin’s doing. I’ll, ah, thank her for you, shall I?”

Pero snorted.

“Please do.”

William nodded, his smile cheeky. “Congratulations.” He plucked a cherryblossom from his pocket. “I’ve been instructed to tie this to the door. You’re not to be disturbed. Not tonight.”

And then the big door shut behind him, and we were alone.

Pero turned to me, taking me in his arms. “ _Querida_. My wife,” he murmured, his dark eyes soft with awe.

“Husband,” I whispered, cupping his face. I stroked a finger over the bottom edge of his eye scar.

He tugged me down on the bed, laying next to me, propping himself up on one arm, gazing down at me.

“I must confess. I cannot believe you find me…” He quirked a brow. “I am old, _princesa_.” 

I stroked my hand through his hair, the strands soft, and once again gently touched his scar. “How did you get this?”

He frowned thoughtfully. “I was a young man, starting out as a blacksmith, _si?_ I fancied myself in love with a local girl, the daughter of a lord. I had… thought her to return my affections.” He swallowed, a faraway look in his chocolate eyes. “She bid me come to the manor, and I thought because we had been… intimate, I was to ask for her hand. She laughed as her father gave me this, to make me as ineligible on the outside as I was on the inside. Crass, lowborn.”

He looked away, and my heart splintered.

“Pero.”

His gaze met mine, eventually. 

“Let me tell you what I see.”

The candlelight bathed his face in gold and amber as I began.

“I really think you might be the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

He scoffed. “Now, _querida_ -”

“Did I say you could interrupt?”

Pero’s brows winged up at my tone, but he nodded, acquiescing.

“I’m sorry that little girl, and I do use the term pejoratively, couldn’t appreciate you, and made her father mark you. But I love the scar. It gives your face character. I love this…” I drew a finger down his nose. “Makes your profile striking.” Next I pressed my index finger into the crease in his bottom lip. “This is the kiss the angels gave you, their mark for a job beautifully done. And your eyes, Pero. I love looking into them. The colour of the finest ale.”

When I looked back at him, his eyes glittered in the candlelight. Wordlessly he pulled me close, rolled me under him on the wide, soft bed.

“Never have I been described thus,” he rasped. “William…. Is usually the preferred partner for the fairer sex, when we travel.”

“Then you have been with idiots.”

He huffed out a laugh, his voice breaking like he was on the edge of tears, and then he kissed me, deeply, hungrily, and I tugged at his hair, and he groaned into my mouth. I whispered his name, and he drew back, looked at me with a question in his eyes.

“Let me worship you tonight,” I breathed.

His eyes went dark and hot, and he nodded. “I can deny you nothing, wife.”

I rolled us so he lay under me, and I slowly, painstakingly slowly, disrobed him. I drew loose the ties on his robes, laying the sides out on the bed, trapping his arms. I smiled cheekily as I sat on his thighs. “Looks like you’re trapped.”

He chuckled softly, his face light with happiness, transformed, and he had never been so breathtakingly handsome. “And what shall you do with me, hmm, now that you have me?”

I only smiled at him, and then proceeded to take my time kissing him everywhere I could reach. I started at his stubbled jaw, nipping until I knew I’d leave a mark, cataloguing his mmmms and little jerks and groans.

I paid slow, careful attention to the dark discs of his nipples until he writhed beneath me. Beneath the edges of his parted robe I saw his hands clench, tanned fingers dark against the white bedsheets.

I murmured constant praise against his skin, checking back to look upon his face every so often. As I kissed my way down his abdomen, towards where his cock lay heavy against his belly, I saw his head thrown back, delicious neck arched.

 _“Por favor,”_ he bit out, and I took pity on him, fisting the base of him and letting my tongue play over every inch of him, tasting, teasing, loving. I drew it out, taking him deep until I felt his muscles trembling, then easing off, until he was _wrecked_ , a gorgeous, panting mess beneath me, little whimpers escaping his lips. I traced every part of his beautiful cock with my tongue, every ridge and vein, learning what made him buck up, what made him grit his teeth.

He moaned my name, halfway between a prayer and a plead.

All this teasing had made me plenty wet, so I hiked up my wedding robe and straddled him. His eyes went wide for a second and then he dragged his arms from the sleeves of the robe and settled his hands on my hips.

His teeth were tightly clenched as I eased myself down on him. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple, and once I was fully seated he gasped. “I cannot…” He moaned deeply, bucked once, twice, and spilled inside me, the cry wrought from his lips one of intense, spiralling pleasure.

I clenched my muscles around him, working him through it, and his hips jerked a few times, and then he shivered weakly, and I lay down on him, cuddling him close.

“ _Mierda_ ,” he bit off.

I smiled against his chest. “That was my fault. But we have all night. Don’t we?”

Pero groaned. “I am not the young man I used to be, _cielo_. But for you, it would be a fine way to die, no?”

*********

“Tell me about the axe,” I said sleepily, much later.

We were curled up together, naked. The clothes had been tossed to the floor somewhere between round two and three; I’d lost count. I felt as weak as a newborn foal, my limbs liquid, my body beyond replete.

Pero cuddled me close, his fingers idly playing up and down my arm. The thick blankets kept us warm. “I had it commissioned, not long after I met William.”

“That’s why it has the mark underneath? Your scar,” I added.

He nodded, dropping a kiss on my head. I lived for these little softnesses he gave me now, lived for him letting down his guard. “The handle opens. A compartment for things of value, no? William knew to open it should anything happen to me.”

“Is anything in there now?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “There was no-one to leave word of my death for. Until now.”

Fear streaked through me. “But you won’t die,” I said firmly, almost daring someone, something, to appear and strike my down. “You won’t.”

Pero chuckled. “I have already lived longer than most sellswords, have I not? But do not worry, wife. Death would not dare take me now. Not with you standing at the gate. My fierce warrior woman.” He bent to kiss me, and I cupped his dear face, smoothing my thumb along his cheek.

“Will you put something inside the axe for me?” I asked, my voice barely audible, even to me. “Please? Just…. in case.”

His eyes softened. _“Si, querida.”_

Later, I skirted around the room, blowing candles out, then opening the shutters so I could see the moon.

Pero slept, his hair dark, tousled and curling against the pillow. He smelled of sex, leathers, the ceremonial tea. I could still taste his release on my tongue, and the taste made me want him again.

I slid back into bed, smoothed my greedy hands over his chest, down his body. He stirred slightly when I took him between my lips, felt him grow to hardness within moments.

We made love to each other slowly, as if every touch, kiss, every rock of his hips into me, mattered, more than our next breaths. I held my husband close, savouring each beat of his heart, each whispered word of love, each promise of forever.

When I next saw the moon through the aperture of the window, clouds had drifted across it, casting a shadow. 

A storm was coming.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heavy violence in this chapter.
> 
> Warning: major character death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT the final chapter.

A furious commotion startled me awake. I felt Pero’s hands tighten around my waist and knew he’d woken too. A gong sounded in the hallways outside and I sat up, eyes wide.

“Tao Tei,” Pero murmured. He shot out of the bed, grabbing for the robes he’d taken off, and then casting them aside for his tunic and leathers which had been laundered yesterday. He shoved his legs into the breeches, tossing me the plainer robes I’d worn prior to the ceremony.

The trunk lay open at the foot of the bed and I grabbed the axe without thinking, wrapping my hand around it-

Nothing happened.

I stared at it, actually thankful it hadn’t done its thing; but more confused than ever.

Pero sheathed his swords and reached for my hand, pulling me close for a fierce kiss. Above, the stone ceiling shook.

“I love you,” I whispered.

 _“Te adoro, mi vida,”_ he rasped back, and then I flung the door to our chamber open and all hell broke loose.

William ran past, tunic untucked, struggling into his armour with one arm, holding his quiver with the other. He looked rumpled, and I took a second to smile to myself, wondering if he’d spent the night in a similar fashion to Pero and I. 

I hoped he had.

Screams reached us from the stone steps as the three of us, amid a sea of armoured soldiers, hurried up to the battlements, where the Tao Tei were already doing their best to scramble over the walls. One of the snarling green beasts cornered two young foot soldiers, its giant, drooling jaws held back by the shields held by the cowering men.

“I need a shot!” William roared.

I cast around, found a discarded cloak, tossed it at Pero. He caught it, unfurled the blood-red cloth.

“Ay, bitch!” He called out, waving the crimson cloak like a toreros. It waved like the ocean in the wind.

The Tao Tei paused. I watched its beady eyes move, and then it turned in a flash, barrelling towards us, claws scrabbling on the stone, the rising sun glinting off its emerald scales.

William braced himself on the wall, an arrow nocked, and jumped and fired just as Pero waved the makeshift capote in the face of the monster.

The Irishman fired again and again as the Tao Tei staggered, and Pero leapt to the side out of danger as I brought the axe blade down, my arms shaking with the effort of hacking into the layers of scales and meaty muscle.

The beast snapped at William’s legs but he fired off a further two shots, into each of the beast’s unholy eyes, and finally it quieted, its breathing rasping into nothing.

I lowered the axe - and something caught my eye.

Further down the wall, five foot soldiers battled a smaller Tao Tei. They were successfully subduing it, so I beckoned to Tovar and William. “Look.”

They followed me to a length of rope tied to one of the battlement sconces. Affixed to the rope were the egg shells gathered from the recent nest scouting expedition.

“Ballard,” Pero seethed, his tone dripping with hatred. “He led them here.”

A cry from behind us made William’s head jerk around. In the midst of the carnage, a Tao Tei sprawled on the battlements like a panther ready to spring, Lin at one end, Ballard at the other. Ballard held the egg obtained from the nest aloft in his hands. He’d donned a suit of armour, poorly, and it spread unbuckled at his sides, but I could see his arms trembling. His mouth curved in an expression that was pure madness.

The Tao Tei eyed the egg, intent clear on its face. _They had come to fetch their young. That we had stolen._

And Ballard had left them the breadcrumbs.

Ice streaked through my veins.

“Ballard,” Lin was shouting. “Do not do this. We will let you go.”

“It’s twenty _years_ too late for that,” Ballard shouted back. “We all escape this hell together. We all do, or no one does.”

A sinking feeling opened up in the pit of my stomach. 

The Tao Tei opened its massive jaws. Ballard hefted the egg and launched it at Lin. Horror dawned on her face as she automatically opened her arms to try and catch it. The reptilian beast spun, its tail knocking Ballard off his feet. My world rocked on its heels as Pero shoved past William and I, flying through the air to intercept the egg, to save Lin from the jaws of death, his shoulders knocking her harmlessly away.

I started running, but I was far too slow. 

The Tao Tei’s huge maw closed over Pero’s midsection as he caught the egg, its knife-like teeth piercing his leathers like they were butter.

I realised too late that he had left his chainmail in our quarters.

William roared with rage, notching arrow after arrow as I dug Pero’s axe into the Tao Tei’s rump, adrenaline negating the strain on my muscles. Blood spurted from the parted scales. William’s arrows hit home with one sickening _thump_ after another as the Tao Tei tossed its enormous head, Pero’s body shaking in its jaws like a rag doll. The egg flew out of Pero’s arms and over the stone battlements, hurtling through the air towards its own doom.

Lin dug a massive shield into the Tao Tei’s neck and finally, its mouth released like a hinge suddenly snapping. My heart in my mouth, I sprinted over to where Lin knelt, with Pero draped across her lap, limp.

With one glance I could see that his injuries were horrific. Black-red blood pumped from the piercings in his lower abdomen. The rising sun lit on the bulging coils of his intestines. 

Even a star surgeon in my time would have needed a team of assistants and several bags of blood to save him.

I heard a scream, like the sound of an animal dying. 

I belatedly realised it had come from my own lips.

Pero lifted a bloody hand. “Wife,” he groaned.

The carnage around us dropped away. I was vaguely aware of a circle of foot soldiers surrounding us, some creating a curtain of privacy, others dragging away the bloody, lifeless Tao Tei, as I dropped the axe at Pero’s side and clasped his hand, bringing it to my cheek.

“It is bad, no?” he asked softly, his voice rasping. A thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

I kissed his palm. “Oh well, you know,” I tried to joke, my voice trembling. “Some might say it’s an improvement.”

Pero chuckled, but it turned into a raspy cough. I cupped his dear face in my free hand, leaning down to kiss his lips. 

“I am sorry, _cielo_ ,” he half-stuttered. “I may need a little time to recover… Before resuming my husbandly duties.”

Tears streamed down my face as I kissed the words away. “I’ll stay. I’ll stay forever. Please. I’ll do anything.” My throat closed, clogged with the thick, bitter taste of fear. “Please, don’t go. Pero.”

My husband gazed into my eyes, the light fading from his. “ _Querida_ , never did I think I…. would find such love. The time you have given me.. I go to God with a full heart. _Te adoro,_ Jade.”

I pressed my forehead to his. “No. No, no, no.”

His free hand smoothed shakily over my shoulder. “Tell me you love me, _mi alma.”_

My lips shook and I pressed them together, determined to try and stay strong. “I love you. I’ll love you forever, Pero.”

One corner of his mouth curved up in a half smile. “Then give me something. Mark me, wife, so that I may find you in my next life, and the next.”

I looked at Lin in a panic.

Her eyes went wide, and she patted her pockets, then came up with a tiny brush and ink stone, and spat on the black surface, creating paint.

Pero’s left hand slid off my shoulder and I set it on my lap. The base of his thumb had been spared a covering of blood, and I drew the first thing I could think of; a spiral, a never ending circle, a serpent biting its own tail and ending where it began. 

Infinity.

I cast the brush aside and lifted Pero’s hand to show him. One corner of his mouth curved up. He sighed deeply, and his eyes closed.

“Pero?” I patted his cheek, felt the warmth of his skin, the scrape of his dark stubble. “Pero!”

I clenched my hands in his leathers, shook him. 

His head lolled in Lin’s lap.

“Pero!”

I screamed his name, over and over, until my throat was raw. Until no sound would come out.

I hunched over his body, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pressing my face into his neck, scenting him; leather, lemon oil, the coppery tang of his blood.

Beyond us, the battle was winding down. I heard William shouting, barely registered him parting the wall of soldiers, dragging Ballard by the wiry man’s collar.

“Jade.”

I didn’t lift my face from Pero’s neck.

“Jade. We should move him.”

“Don’t you touch him!” I sobbed, broken. I felt boneless, empty. A ship adrift. “Please. Don’t touch him. Please. _Please_ , William.” The rawness of my own voice was unrecognisable to my own ears. “I would have stayed,” I keened into his neck. “I would have stayed. Had your children. Loved you until my last breath.” I pressed my face into his skin, stroking his soft, dark hair. “Please come back. Please. Don’t leave me.” My voice had dropped to a whisper, shaking with tears. “Please. I can’t lose you.”

Lin made a sound very much like a heart breaking, and stroked my back.

“Bring him back,” I keened. I didn’t recognise my own voice. “Come back to me. _Please.”_

“Jade.” William spoke again, and this time I roused myself to look at him.

The minute I saw Ballard’s face, slack with fear for his own worthless life, I lunged for the axe, grabbed it with both hands, vaguely registering that my fingers were covered in Pero’s blood as I held the handle.

Ballard had killed my husband. Now I was going to separate his weasley head from his body, toss it from the battlements.

I lifted the blade.

And the world went black.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shameless angst in this chapter as we catch up with Jade back in modern day London.

I sleepwalked back to my apartment. The noises of London made me jump at first, my movements jerky. Had I locked up the storeroom? The museum staff entrance? I didn’t know.

I didn’t much care.

I had lain on the floor of the storeroom for some time, clutching the axe. Sobbing my throat raw. Willing it to send me back to before. Willing it to let me look into Pero’s eyes just one more time.

Willing whatever magic that it had before to let me hold him, just for a moment, feel his heart beat, bury my face in his neck. Hear his voice.

_Just one more time._

I didn’t remember taking off my filthy robes and changing into the spare outfit I kept in my locker for nights out. The nylon fabric felt incongruous; I’d become used to thick, soft robes. My bra chafed.

I let myself into my apartment. Everything was where I’d left it. 

My phone chirped in my bag and I pulled it out to see a text from Emma: _Don’t stay too late! Reality TV beckons._

It was our little joke since she had introduced me to Ru Paul’s Drag Race, six months ago.

It felt like five lifetimes ago.

I put the phone to sleep, dropped my bag in the kitchen, and dragged myself to my bed, looking ahead of me but not seeing.

I lay down, fully clothed. The date on my bedside clock showed that here, almost no time had passed. I’d been deposited back to almost the exact moment I’d left.

My gaze was unfocused as I stared at the ceiling. My eyes reported back a view of the plain plaster, but in my mind I saw Pero’s last moments. The length of thick red ribbon around my wrist felt unreasonably heavy. I twisted the fraying ends with my right thumb and forefinger.

If I could have cried some more, I would have. 

I felt wrung out, a cloth squeezed too hard and then left out on the line until it sagged, dry as bone, moving only at the whims of the wind.

Eventually, I slept, and when I did, I dreamed of my husband’s big, soulful brown eyes, his scarred hands on my skin, the whisper of his melodic Spanish accent in my ear.

***************

I woke up in the middle of the night, shaking. My arm spread out across the cool, crisp sheets, reaching for the warmth of a broad Spaniard who had been killed in battle thousands of years ago.

I clutched desperately at a pillow that did not smell of him, and I waited for dawn to come, silent and dry-eyed, a husk of myself.

The next day, I called in sick. 

Emma left me six texts and three voicemails. Marco tried to call all afternoon. I ignored them both, and I stayed curled up on the bed, staring at nothing, hardly moving except for water and bathroom trips. 

Eventually, I slept. 

No dreams came.

**********

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a sharp rapping on the door jerked me from my half-sleep, half-grief stricken stupor.

“Fuck off,” I moaned to the empty room, my voice paper-dry, cracking. “You’re not Pero. He’s gone.”

The clock showed a whole day had passed. It was just after ten a.m.

The pounding got louder.

I scrubbed my hands over my face, got up wearing yesterday’s clothes. Walking felt like dragging my feet through a carpet of molasses.

I yanked open the door without checking to see who it was.

Emma stood on the other side, and she took me in with wide eyes, her lips parting.

“Um, oh my God,” she breathed, taking in my wrinkled clothes. I probably stank. “What happened? Flu?”

I gazed at her, my very best friend, trying to summon joy at seeing her face again, when I never thought I would. Instead, I just shrugged.

And then she moved forward and wrapped her arms around me, and I let my face fall into the familiar feel of her shoulder, and I cried.

Two cups of tea later, I had unloaded the entire story to Emma, who had listened without interruption, various expressions parading across her elfin face, but, who now almost certainly thought I had experienced some sort of intense mental break.

I wasn’t entirely sure I hadn’t.

“Well,” she said finally, with the tone of someone speaking to a very infirm person or a baby; “You can’t go back to work in this state, can you?”

I gaped at her. “You want me to go back to work now?”

She tugged my hand until I reluctantly stood up from the sofa. “You’ve not got a lot of choice. There’s a man in the staff waiting area and he says he won’t leave until he sees you. Came all the way from America.”

My heart sank further still. I just heard _America_ , not Spain.

Emma herded me into the bathroom, stripped me off as I stared sightlessly at the wall, turned on the water, shoved me under it.

I watched, unfeeling, until the spray hit the red ribbon around my left wrist, and then a cry raked up my throat, and I slid down the tiled wall, curling in on myself, pressing the damp wedding bracelet to my lips, wishing myself back in China. Back in Pero’s arms.

Wishing I could hold him just one more time.

_Just one more time._

*********

Emma didn’t say much on the way to the Armouries. What could she say? From her point of view, her colleague had called in sick one day and appeared to have suffered an intense psychotic episode.

I half sleep-walked off the tube, up to the museum. People passing probably thought I was taking very strong drugs.

Emma made me a very strong cup of tea, so strong that perhaps the spoon could have stood up by itself, and steered me to my desk chair. “Sit. I’ll bring the visitor.”

I stared into the mug. “Do I have to? Please don’t make me.”

Emma set her hands on her hips, her face creased in sympathy, brow pinched with worry. “You can go home right after. I swear. Okay? You get one more day of whatever… this is, and then I’m taking you out on the town. London at our feet. Or, you know, twelve hours on the sofa, with popcorn and Ru Paul. Okay?”

I nodded, just to get her to leave.

Time passed; I wasn’t sure how much. I stared at my PC’s _Welcome to the London Armouries_ screensaver, and wondered how much trouble I would get in if I hurled my computer out of the window.

Then I remembered I didn’t even have a window in this office. 

I smiled without humour.

A soft knock at the door made me look up. “Come in,” I called, with zero enthusiasm.

The handle turned, and I expected to see Emma, but I didn’t. What I saw made me topple off my chair.

A man with Pero’s face stood in the open doorway. His hair was lighter, cream caramel kissed with autumn, tousled. Scruff adorned his upper lip and the same strong jaw as Pero’s. 

The same soulful, deep brown eyes. 

The same striking profile, same nose I’d loved the hook of.

I stared at him as all the noise was sucked from the room. My ears rang.

He hurried over to me. “What the- Are you _okay_?” he asked in a husky-edged, drawling baritone, California with just a lick of Texas.

I stared at him wordlessly. My mouth opened and closed, until I finally squeaked out, “is this some kind of joke?”

The man stepped back, brows furrowed. “Funny. I’m pretty sure that’s my line.” He rubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw, and that was when I saw it.

The circular mark on the root of his thumb. The depiction of infinity; the spiral, the serpent eating its own tail. Not black, like ink, but the colour of melanin.

My heart lurched into my throat.

This time when he offered me his hand, I took it. 

Our palms touched, and something electric chased down my arm. The stranger jerked as if I’d struck him, slapping his hands over his face as he reeled back, hitting the wall and sliding down it. I rocked back on my heels, staying on the floor.

He held his hands over his eyes for a moment that stretched, shaking, his shoulders hunched in.

When he finally looked at me, his eyes had changed. Darker, somehow. His mouth just a little scowly.

My heart jumped like it had been supercharged, because there was my Pero. I was frozen to my spot.

“The dreams,” the man said, very slowly. “I’ve been having these crazy dreams. But they’re.. memories, aren’t they?”

Unable to speak, I nodded.

“They’re my memories. But also… not mine.” He stared into the distance for a long moment, his face pale, wonder sketched on his features. “And this.” He ran the index finger of his right hand over the birthmark on his left thumb. “You did this.” His eyes sparked hazel fire, accusing me of this insanity.

And he was right. I had done this to him.

I held his gaze, my heart in my throat, heavy. “I gave it to you. Before.”

The stranger’s hand eased over his abdomen, resting where Pero had been gored open by Tao Tei teeth. “It feels… fuck, it feels real.”

I swallowed, my eyes burning, stomach bottoming out. Tears streaked down my face and I let them come, my stomach cramping, and for an agonising moment, it was like losing him all over again. In my mind’s eye I saw the blood pulse from him, his life slipping away and me crouched over him, helpless to stop it. “It was real.”

We sat together in silence for, I don’t know how long. I both ached to touch him and feared it. Feared the modern texture of his open-flannel shirt over a white t-shirt. Feared the rough denim of his jeans.

And how would he smell? Not of lemon oil, leathers or woodsmoke. How could he?

“I’m Zach,” he said into the dragging silence. “Zachary Pero Wellison.”

My mouth dropped open.

Zach smiled lopsidedly, pushing a hand over his face. The face that was Pero’s, and yet, not. “So… I guess with the addition of…” He waved his hand between us. “…this, I’m sort of…. Both of us? I’m Zach, but I somehow have the memories of….. Pero.” He pressed a fist to his head and then popped his fingers in a “head exploding” reference. “Is this really happening, do you think?”

I laughed, without humour. “At this point, I don’t think I know.”

Zach huffed out what might have been a laugh. “The shrink sure as hell didn’t cover this in PTSD counselling.”

His deadpan delivery made me smile for the first time since I’d woken up back in 2019.

Footsteps sounded outside, followed by voices that lingered and then, after a minute, moved on. My gaze flicked over Zach, my stomach heartsick. Pero, _my Pero,_ was in there, and yet, he wasn’t.

This was impossible. Everything I had ever learned told me what Zach and I were experiencing just did not happen.

But.

“You’re military?”

He nodded, shrugging off the shoulder of his flannel shirt and pulling up the right sleeve of his t-shirt to show me the bottom half of an intricate tattoo on his shoulder. “Semper Fi. Marines. Buzz cut grew out.”

I ate up the extra view of his body, greedy to know where he would be the same, and where he might be different.

“Glad I never saw anything like… the Tao Tei in Afghanistan,” he said shakily, a self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips.

I held his gaze. “It was an experience. Are you.. I take it you don’t still serve?”

“Nope. Three tours and an honorable discharge, two years on the street, but for the past five I’ve had a steady job. A roof over my head.” He summed up his life so flippantly; his delivery really reminded me of Pero’s nonchalance about death.

_I sell my sword for coin, I sleep when fighting has exhausted me, and one day I will die and return to the earth. Simple, don’t you think?”_

“Um, so… can I get you a coffee?” I asked, swiping my hands over my eyes. It felt like a monumentally banal thing to say seeing as this man now seemed to hold every memory my dead husband had ever clocked up, but I didn’t have anything else.

“Got any whiskey?” he half-laughed.

“I wish I did.”

“I’m good. Drank about a gallon of it at the hotel. Nerves. I, um…” He lifted those cocoa eyes to mine, and for a second, a heartrending second, it was Pero looking at me. My pulse tripped. “This is… _fuck_ , this is a lot. I really…” He clenched his hands into fists, drawing my attention to that birthmark, the same lines, lines _I had drawn_ , only in that brown shade of skin pigment. “I wanna touch you. Or he does. I don’t know. But… can I? Is that okay? I can’t think about anything else.”

Twin zings of excitement and fear skidded up my spine. “Um… okay.”

Neither of us moved.

Zach laughed nervously, standing. He towered above me as I sat in the corner next to my computer chair. I let my gaze travel up his body, long legs in faded blue jeans, a flat stomach under that white t-shirt, the lines of his torso delineated by the open plaid shirt.

His eyes were soft as he offered his hand again, palm out flat.

This time, when I took it, no lightning. Just a warm touch. His fingers sure and confident around mine.

He tugged me gently to a standing position, until we were only a foot apart, then he let our joined hands fall to our sides. We stood together like that for goodness knew how long, looking into each other’s eyes; his so familiar and yet so new.

Zach lifted his free hand to gently skim his thumb along my jaw, and just like that, the air changed. Each breath I took seemed supercharged as I gazed into his big, soulful eyes. “Zach,” I whispered, and it didn’t feel wrong.

He slowly lowered his head to mine, his eyes constantly flicking to meet mine, checking it was okay. Checking _I_ was okay.

And then just before our lips met, a shudder went through him, and he whispered, _“Cielo,”_ with just a hint of Spanish melody, and there was no way in hell he could have known that word unless-

And I yanked him down to me and kissed him with all the love and yearning and grief in my heart, and he kissed me back. His hands came up to spread over my back, and the warm, solid wall of his chest felt divine. 

Perfect. 

Bliss.

I opened for him, and he licked into my mouth, his teeth scraping just a little, and I welcomed the tiny hurt, pressing closer into his body. His lips were Pero’s lips, his little shaky inhale the way Pero would sometimes suck in a breath when we kissed. I shoved my hands beneath his open plaid shirt, felt the play of muscle on his back, under the soft t-shirt, and it was _like holding Pero._ I sobbed into Zach’s mouth and he drew back, frowning.

“Sorry,” I choked out. “I’m sorry. I -”

“I know,” Zach whispered, stroking my hair back. “I was there. He - I - loved you … He loved you. More than anything.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing my lips together to stop them from trembling. “This isn’t happening. I would give _anything_ to have him back. Anything. But this is… it can’t be real.”

Zach cupped my cheek, his eyes dark, stormy, and for a moment it was my husband looking at me. “Ask me something only he would know.”

I opened my eyes again. This was like living in an alternate reality of the film _Ghost_. But real. I felt the floor under my feet. I felt Zach’s palm against my skin, gun-callused, the same way Pero’s had been sword-callused.

“What did he say to me, when we… when I…” The words dried up on my tongue. Suddenly I didn’t want to share, which made no sense. “The first time,” I finished lamely.

Zach dropped his gaze from mine, a flush stealing over his cheeks. “ _Cielo_. Heaven. I will not last,” he murmured, that Spanish melody sneaking, incrementally, into his tone.

My pulse spiked. 

No one could know that.

He met my eyes again. “ _Fuck_. I know. This can’t be happening. But it is. Unless we’re both suffering the same delusion.”

I half-laughed. “Unless. God, Zach. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about…. all this.”

“I’m not. I wanted answers to these _insane_ dreams, to the burning feeling on my birthmark, and however absolutely batshit those answers are… I had so many moments over in Afghanistan, wondering what I was fighting for… where my life was going. Always thought - it’s so stupid, but always thought I was just _waiting_ for something. And maybe that something is you.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, Zach.”

He smiled lopsidedly. “Whatever this is, it doesn’t feel like just my twisted little secret anymore.”

“I-” My heart pounded. “Secret. Oh my God, _secret_. The axe.”

Zach’s gaze shot to mine, wonder sketched on his handsome features. “I know how to open it.”

**********

I’d never run so fast before. I skidded out of the office, Zach on my heels, past some very surprised visitors and down to the artefact storeroom. I could only hope that no one had been there since the day before yesterday.

Zach stood silently by, but I saw his hands clenched into fists by his side as I swiped my keycard.

_It was still there._

The door slammed behind us as I lurched on to the floor, picking it up, uncaring about being without cotton gloves.

Zach held out his hands, and I passed it to him. He gazed at it in wordless awe, his eyes poring over it, fingers stroking reverently.

Then he turned it over, pressed his thumbnail into the slice representing Pero’s scar in the carving on the bottom, and the handle turned, loosening.

I gasped in shock, surprise, joy.

Zach gently pulled the haft loose to reveal a shallow compartment in the metal handle, two pieces of parchment and a loop of crimson lying inside, like the finest of treasures.

With hands that shook, I took out Pero’s handfasting bracelet. The edges were frayed, the fabric so old it had discoloured, but it was his. I lifted it to my lips, felt my heart wrench from my body.

Zach had set the axe down and held the pieces of parchment in his palms. His eyes were wide as he breathed, “I wrote this. I mean, he did. But I remember writing it.”

I paused, the dusty, faded bracelet pressed to my cheek. “What?”

He showed me the yellowed parchment, the writing faded beyond recognition. “The words are almost gone. But I was there. I - _he_ \- wrote it while you slept. On the handfasting night.”

The world spun. I braced myself up on one arm. “Would you read it? Please.”

Clearing his throat, Zach closed his eyes, and to my amazement and joy, to my sadness and gratitude, Pero’s voice left his lips.

_Querida_

_You sleep as I write this. My wife, in our bed. Your body and soul more beautiful than I could ever have wished for, in this life certainly. I am not good with words, mi vida, but you must know that you hold my old, scarred heart in your hands._

_I think perhaps, you always have._

_If you are reading this then I have gone with God, but whatever He may have planned for my old bones, I will carry you with me always._

_Until we meet again,_

_Yours,_

_Pero_

When he’d finished, tears streamed unashamed down my face, wetting my jeans. I couldn’t have cared less.

Zach’s face was drawn, too. He set the two pieces of paper aside and opened his arms, and without a second thought, I crawled into them. He rocked me gently, and I pressed my face into his neck, breathing him in; he didn’t smell of Pero, he smelled of rosemary and sandalwood and coffee, but it wasn’t wrong.

“Thankyou,” I whispered into his shirt. “Thank you, for letting me hear his voice, just one more time.”

Zach said nothing, just nodded. He understood. He always would.

We sat that way for I didn’t know how long. Eventually I roused myself. “Zach?”

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. “It’s still me. I think,” he drawled, American again, but that husky-edged voice curled its way into my heart.

“What’s the other piece of paper?”

He lifted one arm to pluck it from the floor. “It’s… what is this language?”

I recognised the penmanship. “Oh my God, it’s Gaelic.” I scrambled off his lap, reaching for my phone. This piece of parchment had been wrapped inside the other, and the words had been mostly preserved. I took a picture of the text, uploaded it to the translation app a colleague at the British Museum had developed. While still in beta, it nevertheless contained many ancient languages.

Within a few moments, a translation appeared, and Zach and I gazed down at the screen as I read aloud:

_Jade_

_The thought that this message may find you in a future many, thousands of years from now gives me pause, I must admit, but since fighting those… Monsters, I find nothing surprises me._

_We gave your husband a warrior’s wake. That I swear to you. Lin saw to many of the details personally. After your rooms were cleared I found a note in his hand and I enclose it here._

_We captured a Tao Tei in the days following Tovar’s death. We fed Ballard to it. A fitting end for such a waste of air, I think you’ll agree._

_And after that, the strategists found the Queen. We think we’re halfway to learning how to be rid of them. Once and for all, I pray._

_A year has passed since you and Tovar left me. As I write this, Lin sits beside me with our twins, Jade and Pero, named for the man who saved Lin’s life, and the woman he loved beyond the boundaries of time._

_I don’t know what will happen when we die, but we will keep Tovar’s axe in our family as best we can. Lin says she trusts the spirits to take care of it, and after all I’ve seen here, I can’t disagree with her._

_She wouldn’t listen even if I did._

_We miss you._

_With love,_

_William Garin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go on this journey. Thank you, thankyou, thankyou for indulging my insanity.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of this adventure. I have so enjoyed penning this.

We walked to Zach’s hotel in companionable silence. I wanted to talk somewhere, and my apartment was a forty-minute tube ride away. The weather was too nice, and I didn’t want to share him with other people yet, which was… weird, and kind of made no sense.

But then _nothing_ about what I had experienced over the past days made any sense, so…

Zach’s arm brushed mine as we walked, and I looked over at him.

He smiled, slightly. “Is it… weird if we hold hands?”

Something like hope spread its wings in my chest. I took his hand, tangled our fingers. It was like holding Pero’s hand, a little less rough, that was all.

Zach squeezed my hand in his larger one. “Never thought I’d see London. It’s pretty. So many trees. My hotel overlooks the park.”

“Fancy,” I admired.

He laughed self-deprecatingly. “Well, if you’re gonna shell out hundreds of bucks on a plane ticket to find out why you’re having twilight zone dreams, why not go the whole hog and spring for a fancy hotel, right?”

I wondered how we looked to passersby. Just a young couple out walking, hand in hand, enjoying the sun?

We reached the park. “We can walk through here, my hotel’s on the other side,” Zach began as he passed a couple with a massive husky on a leash.

“I love this park. Always wanted to have a little… tete a tete in here,” I mused, my eyes straying to a couple of teenagers laying on a blanket, making out, oblivious to the world going on around them.

“Oh really?” Mischief made itself at home on Zach’s face, his eyes dancing, and it was both glorious and sad - he wore happiness well, and sadness pricked at my heart that I had so rarely seen Pero this happy.

“Really.”

Zach tugged me towards the shade of a towering oak tree, the branches curving downwards, almost touching the ground, creating a curtain of sorts.

“What are you…” I started as he backed me up into the tree. The bark touched my back through my peasant-style blouse. “Zach?”

“He thought about this, you know,” Zach murmured, his voice lowering half an octave, intimate, deep. “Saw those trees. The day you - we - stopped to refresh the horses, ate those _shitty_ dry crackers. Man, medieval food sucked, huh.” He winced, then leaned in, brushing his nose against mine. “Pero thought about backing you up against a tree. Taking you like that. Hard.”

The breath caught in my throat. My heart hammered. Zach slid a knee between mine, kissing his nose against my cheek, then bent to nuzzle my neck. “I want you, Jade.”

I gazed up into his chocolate eyes, and that hope fluttering in my chest took a test flight. “I want you, too.”

I slid a hand up into the hair at his nape, stroking gently, and tugged his lips to mine. He took the cue, and I licked into his mouth. Kissing him was like tasting a favourite ice cream with a new flavour added. 

“Hotel?” He asked against my lips.

I nodded.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered: how soon is too soon to sleep with the reincarnation of your dead husband? But I realised I didn’t care, at all, about being appropriate.

I wanted to feel Zach inside me, his hands on my skin. I wanted to see his face contort in pleasure, I wanted to learn everything about him.

Zach tugged my hand with a grin, and together we ran through the park, the tails of his open plaid shirt fluttering in the summer breeze, and I felt the sun on my face, and I was _happy_.

***********

By the time we climbed the stairs to Zach’s room, laughing, hands linked, we fell through the door and grabbed greedily at each other. The sun streamed in through the pale curtains, and I shoved Zach’s open button-down off his shoulders, tugging at the hem of his white t-shirt. When he lifted his arms to help me get it off, I inhaled at the sight of his physique - leanly muscled, wiry. Slimmer than Pero, but the slight flare of his hips; the flat discs of his nipples, the happy trail from his navel - they were all the same.

I smoothed my palms over his chest, my heart breaking and then being remade, all at once.

Zach cupped my elbows, bringing me closer to him, rested his forehead against mine. “Is… this okay?”

“It’s _very_ okay.”

I breathed him in, touched every inch of his torso I could reach. Stroked my fingers over that intricate tattoo on his shoulder.

“More. I want more of you, Zach.”

He tipped up my chin with a gentle hand, kissed me softly. “Bed?”

“Bed.”

He led me to the crisply made bed, smiled self-deprecatingly. “Marines never leave an unmade bed behind.”

I chuckled at his humour. So like Pero’s. The sarcastic streak was strong in this bloodline. “I like it.”

He cupped my face in his big hands. “Here’s to you discovering that you like everything about me.”

I sat back on the bed, pulled him with me, kept tugging until he lost his balance, and laughing, sprawled on top of me. I spread my palms over his back, let my legs fall apart so I could feel the hard length of him where I wanted it most. He bucked against me, biting off a curse against my lips.

“I remember. I remember what it’s like to be inside you. So good. _Fuck_.”

“Yes, please.”

He choked out a laugh, then groaned. “You’re too… oh, fuck. I need to be inside you.” His hips moved helplessly.

We groped at each other anxiously, clothes shed quickly, abandoned by the bed. Every part of him I uncovered wound the coil of desperation tighter inside me. When we finally touched, both totally naked, I thought my heart would burst from the pleasure of it, from the quiet nirvana of feeling his skin against mine.

“Please,” I whispered.

 _“Cielo,”_ he responded, and this time there was only a tiny touch of Pero’s voice there, and I knew maybe one day, he would be gone for good, but his memories would not, and that would be enough. I rolled our bodies, straddled Zach, gazed down at his face, so dear and familiar, taut with desire. He stroked the sensitive bud of nerves at the crux of my body and I braced my hands on his chest, felt his heart beat under my palms. 

“Condom,” he muttered, and I was glad one of us was thinking straight. At his gesture I grabbed for his jeans, plucked the foil out.

“Always ready, hmm?”

Zach rolled his eyes. “Don’t insult me with that coastguard reference,” he groused, but a teasing light gleamed in his gaze. His chuckle turned into a half-gasp as I rolled the condom down, stroking as I went. 

“I’m going to explore you later. Want to learn every inch.”

He swallowed hard. “Won’t last. Please.” He put his fingers to work again as I positioned myself, slid down, maintained eye contact.

And the stretch was _bliss_. And it was like coming home. And I knew from the way Zach let his eyes close, the way he reached for my hand, held it tightly, that he felt it too.

********

_One Year Later_

I rolled my suitcase through to the arrivals hall at LAX. The flight had left me tired, but I didn’t care. Seeing Zach always buoyed me up. He came to meet me off the plane without fail, and the most recent time he’d flown over to London, I’d slipped a gift on to his wrist - the handfasting bracelet, rewoven with leather. I’d had mine remade in the same way. They would last a lifetime, now. 

Just like I knew our love would.

I scanned the crowds for him, and my heart leapt when I met his gaze. His hair glinted caramel-gold in the overhead lights, and he wore a grey t-shirt over light wash jeans, his stance relaxed, joy sketched on his face.

Contentment really suited him. Yesterday he’d received fantastic news - I was looking at the new Head of Maintenance for the British Museum. My Zach would be coming to London to live with me.

I abandoned the suitcase and ran full pelt towards him. Zach opened his arms for me and I leapt the last two feet. He caught me, burying his face in my neck and spinning me around, and I breathed him in, my heart so full I could barely speak.

“Hi,” I whispered against his pulse point.

“Hey, baby.” He rarely called me cielo these days. But I understood that. Zach wasn’t entirely Pero. He never would be. But I loved the parts that were Zach and the parts that were Pero, equally. Both men had captured my heart and soul, and both would ever share it.

I rescued my suitcase. Zach took it and drove me back through Los Angeles to his little apartment, the one granted with his building manager job. A job he’d soon be saying goodbye to.

I loved visiting him here, but I couldn’t wait to say goodbye to jetlag, rushed weekends together, and a ridiculous amount of phone sex in between plane rides.

“Are you tired? Hungry?” Zach asked as he tossed his keys in the little bowl by the microwave, and I stopped him with a hand on his cheek.

“Are you okay? You seem… nervous.”

He raked a hand through that gorgeous pile of hair. “Yeah. Well. Remember when I said I had to go out of town for a few days?”

“Sure.”

“Well.” He leaned against the kitchen counter, looking uncomfortable, too big for his skin. “I didn’t, ah, go for work. I flew to Spain.”

“You flew to - _what_?” My heart started to pound.

Zach nodded slowly. I noticed that he was clean shaven; a rare occurrence. And he was wearing aftershave.

“Zach, what’s going on?”

He reached back into his pocket, knelt on the floor.

My pulse rabbitted.

He offered a little wooden box. It looked haggard, weathered. With one hand he popped it open, revealing a thin golden band set with a single central emerald.

“I couldn’t leave it there, buried under the old tree at the farmhouse where… where Pero grew up. This was his mother’s ring, and after the plague took her, he buried it, thinking he’d come back, if, or when, he found the right woman. He didn’t get the chance to give it to you.”

Tears streamed down my face.

I took the ring gently from the box. It was _beautiful_. 

“Had to do some fast talking when the farmer found me on the land. That’s a story. Never been so afraid of being run over by a combine harvester.”

I hiccuped out a laugh.

“I know, our, um… relationship is kinda unconventional, but I love you, Jade, and not just because Pero loved you too. You’re the answer I’ve been looking for my whole life. You’re what I came home for. When I found you, I found the part of myself that was missing, all this time.”

He took the ring and slid it on. “Please be mine.”

“Yes.” I barely heard myself through my tears, but Zach did, because he sprang up, captured me in his arms, spinning me around again as he had in the airport. “Yes, I want to be yours.” 

Happiness unfurled in my heart, filling up every corner.

Sighing, Zach lowered his head to mine. “No more fighting blind. This time, we’ll have our eyes open. And our whole lives are waiting on the horizon.”


End file.
